■^ 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 
OF  CIML  WAR  NOVELS 
PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


y  ILMEa  CQLLECri 


TIMES   KEYEXGES. 


BLUE    BLOOD; 


OR, 


WHITE    MAY    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 


BY 

L  E  O  ]S"     D  A  X  D  E 


-«-oJ«« 


BOSTON : 
HENRY     L.     SHETARD     &     CO 

^8  7  7/.. 


COPYRIGHT. 

HENRY   L.  S  H  E  P  A  R  D, 
1877. 


WHITE  MAY,  AND   BLACK    JUNE. 


CHAPTER   I. 

YOUNG  Haywood    had   just   returned  from    the    races.     He 
had  thrown  the   reins  of  his  panting  horses   to  the  groom 
awaiting  him  on  the  pavement. 

The  haughty  clash  of  his  heel  on  the  heav}^  staircase  rang  through 
the  lofty  hall,  and  as  the  double  step  of  his  companion  and  him- 
self approached  his  chamber,  the  door  opened  widely,  as  if  in  in- 
stinctive obedience  to  his  desire. 

It  closed  after  them ;  its  oaken  violence  restrained  by  a  hand 
that  guided  it  noiselessly  to  the  threshold. 

The  waxed  floor  stretched  away  to  the  small  squares  of  sunlight 
which  had  found  their  way  through  gables,  dormer  windows,  towers 
and  turrets,  —  and  at  last  lay  sleeping  on  the  polished  surface. 

Ralph's  petted  hounds  stretched  their  weary  limbs  to  rest,  half 
buried  in  the  mossy  roses  of  a  rich  rug  just  spread  for  their  use, 
and  young  Lord  Malvern  speedily  settled  himself  in  a  high  backed 
easy  chair. 

"Damn  this  belt!"  rang  out  on  the  stillness.  "March!  take 
these  pistols  !  " 

"Yes  sir!  pardon  !  here  are  letters  sir."  And  the  faithful  ser- 
vant took  the  pistols  with  one  hand,  while  he  proffered,  the  letters 
with  the  other. 

"O  Jupiter!  and  all  the  gods  of  Olympus! — letters!  March 
are  you  mad  ?  Bring  wine  before  letters  !  —  Fill  the  brimming 
goblet !  Ensuite  the  dressing  room,  and  then  mon  valet-de-chani' 
dre^  nC  apportez  mes  billets. ^^ 

681413 


8  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE. 

Ralph  addressed  Lord  George  deferentially.  "  A  gentleman  of 
the  turf  needs  have  his  nerves  braced  by  the  spirit  of  the  vine,  before 
he  undertakes  the  literary  career  of  perusing  missives  from  '  Vau- 
cluse,  and  Pedee  plantations.  Take  a  bumper  yourself,  my  lord  ! 
Ihis  wine  has  seen  age  !  One  should  be  wiser  as  well  as  wittier, 
for  Its  potations  !  " 

Glass  after  glass  was  drained  to  its  purple  depths,  till  its  effer- 
vescence gleamed  in  their  glowing  cheeks.  Weariness  and  fatigue 
were  chased  away,  by  the  insidious  balm  which  crept  through  the 
vems,  and  lulled  irritability  of  nerves.  Ideas  such  as  only  rank 
and  chivalry  can  sport,  were  advanced  and  discussed. 
^  These  floated  forth  on  their  winy  breath  like  blown  bubbles, 
tinged  with  all  the  hues  of  the  Iris.  The  young  English  lord,  and 
the  American  cavalier  had  become  the  Autocrats  of  all  vulgar 
destinies.  Races,  operas,  theatres,  universities,  thrones,  govern- 
ments, principalities  and  powers  were  brought  upon  the  docket, 
and  each  in  parliamentary  turn  were  laid  on  the  table." 

"Betting  ran  high  to-day,"  said  Ralph.  "A  mint  of  money 
changed  hands." 

"  Yes  ;  the  day  was  fine,  and  the  track  in  good  order.  These 
races  were  gotten  up  by  a  few  mutual  friends,  not  so  much  for  the 
purpose  of  speculation,  as  to  enjoy  a  little  hearty  recreation." 

''Au  cojitrairc,  the  stakes  amounted  to  twenty-five  thousand 
doHars  ;  single  purses  from  two  to  five  thousand  dollars." 

"  Doubtless  ;  after  a  few  heats,  blood  is  up  !  Races  and  purses 
are  married  facts  ;  but  who  is  the  owner  of  that  spiiited  silver  grey 
stalhon  in  the  diree  mile  heat?"  questioned  Lord  Malvern. 

"'Greylock'  is  mine!  I  am  happy  to  acknowledge  myself  the 
master  of  moji  hd  arabe,''  replied  Haywood,  proudly. 

"  He  has  fine  spirit  and  action.  He  passed  the  winning  post  a 
full  length  ahead  of  his  competitor,"  said  his  companion,  flatter- 
ingly. 

";Aye;  my  lord  land' Greylock's'  rider  has  a  superior  system 
of  jockeying.  An  English  jockey  from  Epsom  races.  If  money 
would  have  purchased  his  swarthy  Arab  master  for  'Greylock's' 
back,  I  would  set  the  world  at  defiance. 

"  Is  he  true  Arabian  blood  .?  " 

"  Pure  as  the  dews  distilled  on  Hermon.     Last  winter,  after 


if 


«».' 


% 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 


being  dubbed  'Savant'  at  Z*  Universite,  and  packing  books  out  of 
sight,  I  took  a  trip  over  the  Mediterranean  to  Alexandria,  Cairo, 
and  the  Pyramids.  I  brought  back  the  beauty,  fairly  tearing  him 
from  one  of  the  chiefs  of  the  desert  !  " 

"  '  Dusty  Bay's  '  owner  was  an  American  1  " 

"  Yes  ;  a  Georgian.  '  Dusty  Bay  '  was  shipped  to  my  friend  from 
California  —  fine  blood  ;  trim,  flinty  limbs  ;  contesting  every  inch 
of  ground.  Lapped  '  Greylock  '  on  the  outward  stretch,  but  broke 
badly  on  the  home  run." 

"  Both  came  in  at  a  killing  gait ;  but  Ralph,  my  friend,  did  you 
observe  the  dodge  of  '  Dusty  Bay's  '  jockey  ?  He  is  a  live  Yankee  ! 
He  gave  'Greylock's  '  jockey  a  sly,  sharp  cut  over  the  head,  as  he 
passed  at  the  dra\\  gate." 

"  Holy  God  !  where  were  my  eyes  .''  That  cursed  Austrian  called 
my  attention  with  his  rattling  tongue  ;  else  the  '  live  Yankee '  would 
have  fallen  from  his  saddle  as  a  blasted  fig  falls  from  the  branch. 
That  would  have  been  his  last  race  !  " 

"  But  your  fleet  Arab  might  have  fallen." 

"  Nay,  Lord  George  !  my  pistol  never  misses  aim.  Have  had 
experience  on  the  plains,  and  among  the  marshes  of  Carolina! 
Have  brought  down  slave-runaways  on  the  leap,  as  easily  as  your 
best  hunters  mark  deer  in  English  parks  !  Trained  to  it,  you  see  ! 
We  Southerners  must  be  good  shots  !  Sharp  gunnery  is  one  of  the 
defences  of  our  '  peculiar  institutions.'  That  kind  of  practice  makes 
2l  man  a  shot !  " 

"  You  have  steeple-chases  in  America,  then,  with  some  purpose 
in  view,"  interposed  Lord  George. 

''  We  have  rare  game  to  lure  us  to  pursuit.  A  sort  of  African 
hybrid,  which  has  no  particular  cover  peculiar  to  itself,  such  as 
other  animals  have." 

"The  loss  of  such  game,  I  suppose,  is  not  merely  the  loss- of  a 
haunch  of  vension,  or  a  tidbit  for  an  epicurean  table  ;  but  the  loss 
of  so  much  funds  invested?" 

"  Ah  !  There  you  have  it,  my  lord  !  "  and  Ralph  paced  the  ring- 
ing floor  with  consequential  strides,  every  step  giving  emphasis. 
"There  you  have  it!  Slave-hunting  in  South  Carolina  among  the 
piny  woods  and  brier-jungles,  is  like  hunting  gold  in  water-courses, 
or  diamonds  in  Brazil.  Every  capture  puts  in  your  pocket  a  cool  one 


# 


10  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

ilwusand^  or  ffteeii  hundred,  Mais,  pardonnez-moi !  I  remember 
the  British  are  being  converted  by  the  cant  of  one  Wilberforce,  and, 
perhaps  to  your  English  ear,  my  lord,  a  conversation  on  deer  hunt- 
ing would  be  more  an  fait  to  the  times." 

"Ah  !  as  to  that  matter,  have  no  delicacy  in  expressing  your  sen- 
timents. Every  nation  to  its  taste  ;  but,  by  the  way,  do  you  in 
America,  number  deer  hunting  among  your  field  sports  ?  " 

"  By  the  gods  !  Diana  herself  could  claim  no  richer  hunting- 
ground. — You  should  see  some  of  our  forest  pictures  !  You  should 
see  the  deer  standing  in  groups  beneath  our  splendid  live  oaks,  toss- 
ing their  antlers  among  the  long  grey  moss  curtaining  their  coverts  ; 
or  coming  in  pairs  to  drink  in  some  shadowy  pool  of  water ;  or 
bounding  away  amid  thickets  of  vines  and  fan  palms  !  —  It  touches 
my  heart,  I  swear,  to  hear  the  hounds  baying  after  the  graceful 
things ! " 

"What  are  your  game  laws?  How  do  you  protect  game  from 
your  negroes  and  other  trespassers  .''  " 

"  Game  laws  and  negroes  1  Why,  my  lord,  we  have  no  necessity 
for  game  laws.  Slaves  have  no  arms,  neither  do  they  leave  their 
quarters  without  passes  from  their  masters ;  and  as  to  poachers, 
there  are  none.  Southerners  never  trespass  on  each  other's  rights  ; 
and  when  strangers  come  among  us  who  are  not  in  sympathy  with 
our  institutions,  they  are  ordered  out  of  the  State. —  March,  you 
scoundrel,  bring  more  wine  !  " 

The  two  greyhounds,  roused  by  the  animation  of  Haywood's  man- 
ner, rose  from  their  bed  of  roses,  and  at  unequal  distances  sleepily 
followed  his  walk  up  and  down  the  long  floor,  stopping  at  every 
turn  to  look  him  in  the  face^  as  if  to  question  his  mood,  and  say, 
*'  what  next  t  "  The  long  mirrors  on  the  four  walls  of  the  room 
repeated  the  scene,  till  the  multiplied  master  and  hounds  appeared 
like  the  gathering  in  court  of  some  ancient  feudal  castle,  prepara- 
tory to  a  grand  gala-hunt. 

"  Flash  !  7na  belle  !  Dash  !  mo?i  brave  I  take  your  rug  I  If  the 
race  had  been  decided  by  your  fleet  limbs,  I  should  have  swept  the 
stakes.  Rest !  "  and  obeying  the  gesture  of  his  hand,  with  a  whim- 
pering cry  of  satisfaction,  they  trotted  back  to  their  couch  again. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  H 

Ralph  walked  on,  repeating  with  an  absent  air, — 

"  My  idle  greyhound  loathes  his  food, 
My  horse  is  weary  of  his  stall, 
And  I  am  sick  of  captive  thrall. 
I  wish  I  were  as  I  have  been, 
Hunting  the  hart  in  forest  green, 
With  bended  bow  and  bloodhound  free. 
For  that 's  the  life  is  meet  for  me." 

The  patches  of  the  sunlight  crept  farther  up  the  floor,  and  lord 
Malvern,  ready  to  depart,  stood  dallying  with  the  fresh  blossoms 
of  the  "  jardiniere." 

"  Haywood,  shall  you  go  to  the  French  opera  to  night  ? " 

"  What  is  the  programme  ? 

^^  La  Dieu  et  la  Bayadere ;  then,  a  new  star  upon  the  boards! 
The  first  dancer  of  the  world  !  —  a  childish  creature  !  —  Looks 
not  more  than  fifteen." 

"  Have  you  seen  Mademoiselle  la  dansueseV^ 

"  Twice.  You  would  go  into  raptures, —  figure  perfectly  rounded, 
—  feet  and  hands  of  delicate,  artistic  proportions,  —  fresh  as  an 
apple  bloom,  and  timid  as  a  half-tamed  gazelle." 

**  What  is  her  motion  ? " 

"  Language  fails  !  She  swims  before  you  like  a  wreath  of  mist 
ready  to  float  away  at  a  breath — yet  so  unconscious  of  her  rare 
powers,  and  with  such  innocent  purity  in  every  look  and  attitude, 
that  one  grants  her  respect  and  admiration.  I  will  drive  round, 
for  the  pleasure  of  your  company." 

The  door  again  opened  under  the  dexterous  hand  of  March,  and 
his  visitor  departed.  Ralph  took  the  opposite  direction  to  the 
dressing  room,  followed  at  a  respectful  distance  by  the  faithful  ser- 
vant who  should  now  attend  the  master's  caprices  in  that  depart- 
ment. 

At  five  o'clock,  the  door  of  the  little  dining-room  was  grace- 
fully opened  by  the  same  dark  hand,  and  young  Haywood  passed 
through.  At  table,  he  was  unusually  irritable  and  fastidious. 
March,  accustomed  to  the  uneven  temper  of  his  master,  served 
him  with  attentive  silence.  The  meal  leisurely  over,  he  repaired 
to  the  drawing-room,  and  ordered  the  letters,  which  were  brought 
to  him  on  a  silver  waiter.     He   broke   the   seal  roughly,  and  in- 


12  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

stantly  recognized  the  familiar  chirography  of  his  guardian  uncle. 

"'  Ubiquc  patriiDn  rc7nijiisd  '  is  forced  upon  me.  Here  in  this 
folded  paper  is  lex  terrae, —  lex  taliofiis,  in  due  form.  I  like  the 
latter,  by  Jove  ! "  and  he  made  the  swift  motion  of  crushing  the 
letter.  Thinking  better  of  it,  he  said,  "No,  I'll  read.  Loyaiite 
m'  oblige." 

The  letter  follows : 

Pedee,  S.  C,  N(rj.  i8///,  1S3— 

My  Dear  Ralph,— Your  letter  of  July  last  was  duly  received.  In  that,  you 
give  the  time  of  the  closing  of  the  University,  and  coincident  with  that  event, 
will  be  the  termination  of  your  student  life.  'After  so  many  years  of  absence, 
our  hearts  are  \yaiting  to  welcome  you  to  our  homes  and  social  festivities.  The 
broad  lands  which  are  your  paternal  estate,  are  awaiting  their  future  master  and 
possessor.  South  Carolina,  the  proud  State  of  your  ancestors,  claims  you  as 
her  son,  and  calls  you  back  to  your  native  soil  for  the  maintenance  of  her  honor, 
and  defense  of  her  life  against' the  plotting  of  fanaticism,  and  narrow-minded 
Northern  sectionalism. 

A  few  agitators,  and  incendiaries  of  Boston,  New  York  and  Philadelphia, 
have  recently  engaged  in  some  highly  reprehensible  measures.  These  wretches 
speak  in  open  derision  of  the  principles  and  measures  of  the  American  Coloni- 
zation Society.  They  profess  to  be  agitated  by  the  benign  spirit  of  Christianity, 
and  advocate  immediate  emancipation,  while  they  are  fiends  in  disguise.  They 
have  brought  upon  themselves  the  condemnation  of  the  great  mass  of  the  sober 
friends  of  gradual  emancipation  in  those  very  cities,  and  in  .the  North  generally. 
We  have  pleasing  evidence  that  the  North  as  a  class  are  with  us.  We  are  grow- 
ing stronger  on  every  side  ;  and  in  future  years  these  visions  of  Emancipation 
will  be  only  myths  of  the  past. 

A  convention  has  recently  been  held  in  Tennessee  for  amending  their  .State 
Constitution;  and  one  afneudment  \s,  a  prohibition  to  the  Legislature  to  abolish 
slavery.  I  send  you  an  extract  from  our  Charleston  Courier  of  July  21st  last 
past.  That  paper  watches  with  an  "Argus"  eye  every  interest  of  our  beloved 
State,  and  therefore  its  opinions  are  considered  reliable.  It  says  "Public  sen- 
timent at  the  North  in  reference  to  Southern  interests  was  never  in  a  sounder 
state  than  it  is  now.  The  language  of  the  Northern  press  is  cheering  in  the  ex- 
treme. The  feeling  in  favor  of  the  South  and  against  the  Abolitionists  is  deep 
and  almost  universal." 

Still,  my  dear  fellow,  as  a  son  of  the  South,  it  is  necessary  you  should  fortify 
yourself  with  a  knowledge  of  the  civil  and  political  status  of  your  country.  I 
will  therefore  state  a  few  facts  for  your  consideration. 

Since  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  the  Northern  States,  the  whites  have  dis- 
covered to  their  sorrow  the  innate,  abject  character  of  the  African  race.  Their 
social  and  political  condition  is  below  the  level  of  that  of  the  slave ;  but  yet 
their  nominal  freedom  only  aggravates  the  condition  of  those  in  bondage 
Among  the  Northern  industrial  classes  these  free  negroes  form  the  lowest  stra- 
tum, performing  the  most  menial  service,  destitute  of  education,  integrity,  virtue 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  I3 

and  religion.  They  fill  no  seats  at  the  free  schools.  They  have  no  churches  of 
their  o\\n,  nor  do  they  sit  in  the  sanctuaries  of  American  Christians,  who  draw 
down  from  the  Supreme  Being  all  national  blessings.  Without  moral  charac- 
ter, through  licentiousness  on  their  own  part,  and  the  Northern  mania  for  amal- 
gamation, they  are  fatjt  degenerating  into  a  mongrel  race  of  mulattoes,  hovering 
between  the  two  races, —  the  scum  (^f  both.  AYith  this  warning  before  the  eyes 
of  Northern  statesmen  and  philanthropists,  the  wise  course  of  the  '*  Colonization 
Society  "  is  cordially  adopted, —  that  of  freeing  the  counti-y  of  this  intolerable 
stigma  by  sending  the  free  negroes  out  of  it,  and  keeping  the  remainder  of  the 
race  within  the  wholesome  restrictions  of  slavery.  As  1  said  before,  these  ear- 
nest and  sober-mindea  men,  guided  by  religion  instead  of  fanaticism,  are  putting 
down  these  new-fledged  Anti-Slavery  societies,  deeming  their  action  as  treason 
towards  the  government 

On  the  6th  of  March  of  this  year,  the  "Colonization  Society*'  of  Middletown, 
Conn.,  passed  this  resolution :  "  Resolved,  That  in  the  opinion  of  this  meeting 
it  is  the  duty  of  every  philanthropist  to  discountenance  and  oppose  the  efforts  of 
Anti-Slavery  societies."  The  Hon.  T.  Frelinghuyson  of  New  Jer^^ey  says  in  a 
speech,  "  We  owe  it  to  ourselves  not  to  ramain  silent  spectators,  while  this  wild 
»?r^  is  running  its  course.  We  owe  it  to  those  misguided  men,  (the  Abolition- 
ists), to  interpose  and  save  them  and  their  country  from  the  fatal  effects  of  their 
mad  speculations."  In  the  organ  of  the  "  Colonization  Society,  "  a  friend  of  the 
South  writes,  "Is  it  possible  that  our  citizens  can  look  quietly  on,  while  the 
flames  of  discord  are  rising  ?  while  even  our  pulpits  are  sought  to  be  used  for 
the  base  purjoose  of  encouraging  scenes  of  bloodshed  in  our  land.^  If  we  do, 
can  we  look  our  Southern  brethren  in  the  face  and  say  we  are  opposed  to  inter- 
fering with  their  rights  ?     No,  we  cannot." 

A  collection  of  earnest  men,  to  the  number  of  three  thousand  strong,  pro- 
ceeded to  vindicate  the  honor  of  the  American  nam.e  by  assaulting  the  residence 
of  Lewis  Tappan,  an  accursed  Abolitionist,  in  New  York  City.  They  attacked 
it  with  bricks  and  stones.  The  doors,  windows,  blinds  and  shutters  were  soon 
demolished,  after"which  the  furniture  was  broken  up  and  a  bonfire  made  cf  it  in 
the  streets;  a  blaze  which  may  well  enlighten  the  understanding  of  Tappan  and 
his  co-workers.  Afterwards  they  proceeded  to  the  churches,  dwellings  and 
school-honses  of  the  city  negroes,  demolishing  them  with  commenabie  zeal,  thus 
affording  a  just  rebuke  to  these  nascent  disturbers  of  the  country's  peace. 

There,  my  nephew  are  the  favorable  signs  of  the  times;  and  although  this 
new  race  of  Abolitionists  possesses  neither  rank  nor  fame,  still,  like  the  insignifi- 
cant worms  which  slowly  eat  out  the  strength  of  many  a  noble  hull,  if  left  to 
their  insidious  workings,  these  vermicular  souls  may  work  leakage  and  danger 
to  our  ship  of  State,  till  its  now  harmonious  and  beauiiful  proportions  topple 
over,  forever.  One  contemptible  fellow,  called  Garrison,  leads  off  this  rebel 
crew  in  Boston.  Let  him  once  come  to  Charleston.  The  gleam  of  a  thousand 
bowie-knives  would  light  his  way  to  Hades  !  Georgia  has  already  set  a  price 
upon  his  head.  Garrison  will  i{ever  set  his  foot  upon  the  shores  of 
Carolina. 

I  will  mention  another  movement  auspicious  to  Southern  interests.  The 
State  of  Louisiana,  owing  to  the  extension  of  sugar  cultivation,  and  a  demand 
for  more  labor,  has  repealed  the  law  prohibiting  the  importation  of  slaves  from 


14  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Other  State?^.  She  is  now  importing  multitudes  from  Maryland  and  Virginia. 
Soon  after  the  repeal  of  the  law,  two  thousand  were  offered  for  sale  in  New 
Orleans  in  one  single  w^eek.  These  border  States,  overstocked  with  a  surplus 
of  necrroes,  will  now  find  in  their  ex])ortation  a  source  (jf  revenue  which  will 
place  them  in  a  condition  of  the  highest  pros])erity.  Spite  of  the  declarations 
of  Jefferson,  of  the  emancipation  sentiments  of  Patrick  Henry,  and  of  John  Ran- 
dolph's assertion  that  Virginia  is  impoverished  by  slavery,  these  states,  with 
th.is  new  outlet,  will  suddenly  rise  to  new  wealth  and  power.  You  will  also  be 
pleased  to  know  that  Georgia  has  lost  no  jot  or  tittle  of  the  high-toned  self-re- 
spect which  marks  her  record  in  the  past.  The  Aiizusta  Chronicle  says,  "  We 
firmlv  believe  that  if  the  Southern  States  do  not  quickly  unite  and  declare  to  the 
North,  if  the  question  of  Slavery  he  longer  discussed  in  any  shape,  they  will  in- 
stantly secede  from  the  Union.  That  the  question  must  be  settled,  and  very 
soon,  by  the  sword,  as  the  only  possible  means  of  self-preservation." 

So  furbish  up  your  arms,  my  boy.     They  may  yet  glitter  valiantly  on  the  field 

of  battle. 

Now,  Ralph,  as  I  have  not  time  to  remark  further  on  the  policy  of  American 
affairs,  a  slight  allusion  to  another  subject  may  be  no  less  important,  and  per- 
chance agreeable.  Your  early  friend  and  playmate,  Grace  Mowndes,  has  bud- 
ded into  charming  girlhood  ;  and  when  your  name  is  mentioned  the  most  delicate 
rose-tint  imaginable  springs  to  her  cheek,  telling  all  too  plainly  the  sweet  secret 
of  her  heart.  Surrounded  by  admirers,  she  turns  from  them  all  indifferently. 
No  one  has  gained  the  light  of  her  eye  or  the  truth  of  her  smile.  Your  white 
rose  is  drooping.  Come  home,  my  boy.  Transplant  it  to  the  fair  halls  and 
love  bowers  of  "  Vaucluse."  to  be  your  joy  forever.  Aside  from  this  vie\v  of  the 
matter,  Grace's  marriage  dower  added  to  your  estate  would  give  you  a  princely 
income,  and  raise  you  above  all  future  anxieties  and  misfortunes. 

This  is  a  long  letter,  sir. —  but  comfort  yourself  that  no  reply  is  demanded  — 
only  your  presence  as  soon  as  your  affairs  in  Paris  can  be  brought  to  an  honor- 
able 'close.  You  should  receive  per  this  mail  a  letter  from  your  bankers, 
Messrs.  Kershaw  &  Lewis,  forwarding  your  quarterly  remittance,  with  a  sketch 
of  the  present  condition  of  your  crops,  lands  and  incomes.  \Vishing  you  a  pros- 
perous vovage,  I  am,  as  ever,  Your  affectionate  uncle, 

Edward  La  Bruce. 

Ralph  still  held  the  open  letter.  "There  !  "  he  exclaimed,  with 
a  gathered  frown,  "  I've  waded  through  that  damned  labyrinth  of 
politics,  slavery,  emancipation,  rose-colored  lilies  and  domestic  re- 
sponsibilities, neck-deep ! " 

His  head  sank  back  on  the  easy  headpiece  of  the  fauteuil  in 
which  he  sat ;  his  boots  still  rested  on  a  chair  opposite,  indenting 
the  satin  seat,  gay  with  \\o\tn  Jlau's  de  lis.  His  hand  fell  by  his 
side,  still  grasping  the  hated  document  which  would  transform 
him  from  the  man  of  leisure  to  a  plotting,  scheming  landholder, 
on  the  secluded  banks  of  the  Pedee. 

A  graver  look  than  was  his  wont,  settled  upon  his  features  ;  his 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  IS 

dark  eyes  peered  fixedly  forward  into  a  future  so  wonderfully 
mapped  out  on  that  single  sheet  of  paper.  Thought  flew  over  the 
water.  He  stood  on  the  verandah  of  his  childhood.  The  stately 
rustle  of  glossy  magnolia  leaves  fell  on  his  ear.  The  long  rows 
of  negro  quarters  peeped  through  distant  corn;  he  listened  to 
the  rich,  sweet  swells  of  wild  melodies  from  voices  that  came 
nearer,  and  then  died  away  in  the  woodlands.  He  hears  the  busy 
working  of  the  rice-mill,  and  sees  the  snowy  heaps  of  clean  grains 
in  the  storehouses.  Hounds  bay  among  the  oaks,  and  his  father's 
light  drafted  sloop  lies  by  the  river  pier,  while  stout  black  figures, 
clad  in  homespun,  roll  heavy  tierces  aboard. 

He  stood  in  his  mother's  room  —  but  he  stood  alone.  Father 
and  mother  were  gone.  A  subdued  expression  softened  his  face 
as  he  thonght  of  the  exchange  they  had  made  for  this  luxurious 
home.  No  voice  welcomed  him  but  the  low,  obsequious  tones  of 
those  who  obeyed  his  commands.  No  tender  pleading  persuaded 
him  to  stay;  but  the  silent  language  of  unshorn  hedges,  straggling 
vines,  and' dilapidated  bowers  implored  him  to  return. 

The  wild  rover  was  beginning  to  feel  a  reviving  fondness  for  the 
old  place,  when  the  sharp  bark  of  '  Flash  '  fell  across  those  soft 
memories  with  such  a  stinging  power,  that  sense  and  irritation  re- 
turned. His  feet  dropped  to  the  floor,  and  the  dreamer  stood 
again  among  the  bewildering  reflections  of  the  chandeliers  and 
mirrors  of  his  foreign  drawing-room. 
'  Lord  Malvern  also  stood  before  him,  fresh  from  his  ev»ening 
toilet,  a  la  theatre,  saying  in  finest  humor, — 

"Ready,    Haywood?       Void  I    des  letres  I — tme  autre   charmante 

divmite  ?  " 

''  Divinite!''  growled  Ralph.  '•'  C  est  bien!  but  wife  !  —  the  su- 
perlative of  divinite  is  damnable  !  —  Je pejise,  to  be  the  responsible 
companion  of  trunks,  bandboxes, 'fuss  and  feathers!'  —  to  be  a 
compulsory  actor  in  the  scenes  of  married  life!— My  soul  revolts  I 
Women  a  la  theatre — au  salon  — a  V opera  I  Dryads,  Nymphs,  Ne- 
reids for  me  ! — More  aggravating  still,  I  am  called  home  from  this 
festive,  fascinating  France,  to  become  a  pillar  of  South  Caro- 
lina ? " 

„With  Slavery  and  State  Rights  for  your  pedestal,"  rejomed  his 
companion,  "and  with  your  liberal   foreign   culture  for  the  Cor- 


1 6  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

inthian  Capital,  I  suppose. —  But  really,  Playwood,  you  chafe  like 
a  war-horse  !  Examine  the  other  letter  —  that  may  prove  an  anti- 
dote for  the  first." 

Ralph  had  received  too  many  remittances  not  to  recognize  the 
superscription  of  his  bankers  and  factors.  He  was  secretly  glad  to 
show  that  an  American  aristocrat,  with  his  toiling  slaves,  could  ex- 
hibit an  income  approaching  that  of  a  titled  Englishman  with  his 
hereditary  domains.     He  broke  the  seal  and  read  aloud : 

Charleston,  S.  C,  Nov.  2,  183 — 

Ralph  Haywood  —  Sir, —  Enclosed,  you  will  find  bill  of  exchange  for  your 
last  remittance  of  five  thousand  dollars,  for  the  current  year,  as  desired.  Also, 
a  hasty  sketch  of  your  income  and  its  sources,  as  follows  : 

From  dividends  and  interest  on  bank  shares,       .       .       .       $10,000  86 
Amount  collected  from  bonds,  ........       3,942  30 

Amount  of  negro  wages, i>o59  7° 

Lease  of  "  Rose  Hill  "  plantation  and  negroes 4,000  00 

Lease  of  "Honey  Horn"  plantation  and  negroes,       .       .  3,500  00 

Net  proceeds  of  500  whole  and  300  half  tierces  rice,       .       ,    16,112  00 

38,614  86 
Deduct  plantation  expenses,  •        8,612  86 

30,002  00 
Your  most  obed't  servants, 

Kershaw  &  Lewis. 

P.  S.  The  pussilanimous  monarch,  William  Fourth,  on  the  first  of  August, 
set  free  every  slave  in  the  British  West  Indies.  Return  to  lend  the  fire  of  your 
patriotism  in  defence  of  this  same  institution,  which  shall  yet  make  our  Repub- 
lic the  glory  of  the  world. 

The  indignant  blood  of  Lord  George  mounted  to  his  brow  at 
this  unworthy  thrust  at  his  king :  but  with  the  cool  air  of  good 
breeding,  he  simply  remarked, — 

"Take  this  last  letter  as  an  antidote  to  th^  other,  my  friend; 
the  horses  are  waiting." 

March  stood  by,  with  Ralph's  hat  and  cloak,  silently  awaiting  his 
pleasure.  The  two  passed  out,  the  prancing  of  hoofs  was  heard, 
and  the  carriage  rolled  away. 


WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK    JUNE.  17 


CHAPTER  II. 

MASSACHUSETTS,  forty  years  ago,  kept  her  Sabbaths. 
They  were  holy  days  ;  seemingly  let  down  from  celestial 
airs  at  stated  septennial  periods,  and  again  drawn  upward  from 
the  old  Commonwealth,  at  the  approach  of  the  first  hours  of  the 
sinful,  earthly  week.  Closed  library  doors  grimly  stood  guard  over 
their  coveted  treasures.  Flowers  bloomed  without  admirers.  It 
was  the  privilege  of  believers  to  shut  their  ears  to  caroling  birds, 
and  sighing  breezes,  and  to  listen  only  to  the  droppings  of  the 
Sanctuary.  None  but  church-going  wheels  traversed  the-  highways, 
and  the  few  pedestrians  walked  with  sanctified  air. 

The  village  of  Alderbank  lay  dreaming  in  this  same  Sabbath 
stupor.  Its  beautiful  river  babbled  over  its  rocky  bed,  to  deep, 
still  coves  beyond.  There  it  rested,  and  fancifully  dressed  itself 
in  the  semblance  of  the  steep  wooded  shore  ;  borrowing  sprays  of 
hemlock,  aspen  and  chestnut  to  wear  on  its  sheeny  bosom. 

The  dwellers  at  Alderbank  might  listen  in  vain,  for  other  hymn 
of  praise,  than  that  singing  river  ;  they  might  look  in  vain,  for  other 
brocade  richer  than  its  coves  ;  for,  no  church  laid  its  foundations 
there  —  no  spire  rose  through  its  unhallowed  atmosphere.  Ava- 
rice had  its  shrine  there,  and  its  sordid  devotees. 

The  very  river  was  made  to  weave  its  bales  of  cotton  on  other 
days.  These  days  had  their  bells  whose  noisy  swinging  called  alike 
its  waters  and  its  workers  from  sleep,  before  the  birds  began 
their  merry  songs,  and  dismissed  them  not,  till  darknesss.  To  day, 
this  Sabbath  day,  these  noisy  mammon  bells  dreamed  also. 

In  this  seemingly  Godless  hamlet,  one  small  shrine,  at  least,  wel- 
comed the  presence  of  the  Divine  Father.  That  shrine  was  the 
childish  heart  of  Fanny  Beame.  Her  worship  was  the  happy  re- 
cognition of  God,  in  all  His  works.  Her  most  acceptable  song  of 
praise  was  the  love  she  bore  to  every  insect,  tree  and  flower,  to  the 
drifting  clouds,  the  sky,  and  the  silver  streams.  With  a  wonderful 
bewilderment  of  gladness  she  learned  His  loving-kindness,  and  the 
strange  glory  of   His  beneficence,  that  crowned  the  natural  sur- 


l8  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

roundings  within  her  own  narrow  horizon.  The  breezy  forest,  the 
blue  outline  of  distant  hills,  the  gleaming  shivers  of  sunlight,,  frac- 
tured to  golden,  purple  and  emerald  atoms,  in  passing  through  a 
dciwdrop,  carried  her  thoughts  into  His  presence,  and  fixed  her 
faith  in  the  more  mysterious  working  of  His  plans,  where  the  phy- 
sical eye  cannot  follow. 

Yet,  Fanny  Beame,  in  her  innocence  and  simplicity,  knew  not 
that  this  was  adoration  of  the  Creator.  She  knew  that  outside  of 
Alderbank,  the  gospel  was  preached  with  prescribed  forms  of  wor- 
ship, of  which  she  had  little  understanding.  She  had  read  a  few 
stray  Sunday-School  books,  incidentally  fallen  in  her  way,  of  chil- 
dren, seven,  ten,  or  twelve  years  of  age,  who  had  struggled  fiercely 
with  sin,  and  had  wrestled  daily  with  God,  for  justification  in  His 
sight.  This,  the  trusting  mind  of  Fanny  received  as  normal  truth, 
which  added  to  an  over-modest  estimate  of  herself,  seemed  to  de- 
mand an  earnest  struggle  in  her  case,  to  make  her  "calling  and 
election  sure." 

She  had  also  read  in  "  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  of  the  load  which 
"  Christian  "  carried  ;  and,  through  her  very  goodness  and  sim- 
plicity, concluded  that  her  own  shoulders  should  bear  a  similar 
burden.  Then  there  was  a  "  Slough  of  Despond,"  through  which 
her  feet  must  pass,  awear)^ !  Thus  was  she  to  set  her  busy  self  in 
following  closely  all  those  forms  and  paths  laid  out  by  Bunyan  and 
all  holy  Christians,  since  his  day.  Thus  would  she  find  the  favor 
of  that  Being  whose  beauty  and  glory  she  already,  though  uncon- 
sciously, adored. 

These  thoughts  and  inferences  were  quietly  revolved  in  her  pri- 
vate hours  of  meditation.  The  pale,  dead  saints  of  the  past  were 
sacredly  set  up  within  the  radiant  cloisters  of  her  inner  soul,  over- 
hung with  memories  of  earliest  spring  blossoms,  and  shaded  by 
sprays  of  autumn  leaves,  glowing  with  God's  love.  There,  her 
false  idols  stood,  in  gloomy  silence,  amid  a  glorious  Te  Deum  of 
bird-carols,  brook-whispers,  wind-voices,  cloud-tones  and  insect- 
trills.  To  day,  therefore,  on  this  Alderbank  Sabbath,  she  would 
begin  to  serve  God. 

Already  she  had  shut  herself  in  a  lonely  closet,  and  read  several 
hymns.  She  had  prayed  after  the  manner  of  those  excellent  chil- 
dren whose  lives  so  far  excelled  hers.     She  had  borne  a  burden  of 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  1 9 

depravity  to  the  foot  of  the  Cross,  and,  as  usual,  looked  in  vain  for  a 
great  and  sudden  light  which  should  be  the  token  of  her  acceptance 
into  the  favor  of  Him  she  loved  so  well.  Before  leaving  the  closet, 
she  lifted  one  corner  of  the  faded  curtain,  and  looked  out  upon  fields 
gilded  by  the  morning  sun.  The  old  happiness  in  the  contempla- 
tion of  nature,  carried  her  rapt  vision  to  the  blue  hills  beyond. 
Then  indeed,  a  "great  light"  beamed  on  her  face,  and  flooded  her 
eyes!  Dropping  the  curtain,  she  reflected  upon  the  darkness 
within,  and  the  brightness  without.  Surely,  she  thought,  the  cause 
was  her  own  "  unbelief."  Well,  she  would  ally  herself  with  God's 
people.  Where  they  went,  she  would  go.  Where  they  sought  bless- 
ings, she  would  join  her  petition. 

Therefore,  Fanny  resolved  to  ask  permission  of  her  mother  to 
walk  over  to  the  little  brown  school-house  at  the  cross-roads,  to 
"  meeting."  The  day  was  dull  and  misty,  portending  rain  ;  but 
while  the  other  members  of  the  family  were  absent,  while  Mrs. 
Bearoe  was  cooking  breakfast,  and  while  Fanny  was  setting  the 
table,  she  said  with  a  gentle  voice,  — 

"  Mother,  may  I  go  down  to  the  *  Four  Corners,'  to-day  ? " 
"  Do  you  want  to  walk  two  miles  and  back,  in  the  rain  ? " 
"  I  thought  it  might  clear  up,"  Fanny  meekly  replied,  ''  but  we 
should  worship  God,  if  it  does  rain." 

"  It  would  be  imprudent  to  allow  you  to  go  down  there  and  en- 
danger your  life,  to  hear  those  young  upstarts  preach  the  duty  of 
other  people,  when  they  don't  know  their  own.  You  are  growing 
more  and  more  foolish  every  week,  Fanny,  instead  of  more  sen- 
sible." 

Fanny  went  on  laying  the  table,  with  temper  unruffled  ;  cups  and 
"tumblers"  slid  into  their  places,  as  quietly  as  before.  No  reply 
fell  from  her  pleasant  lips.  During  the  past  year,  the  Testament 
had  been  her  daily  study ;  she  understood  its  plain,  common- 
sense,  work-day  truths,  and  treasured  them  in  memory,  unemcum- 
bered  by  sophisms  or  expediencies  ;  applying  them  to  all  times 
and  seasons,  as  her  judgment  dictated. 

Now,  while  her  feet  went  to  and  fro  between  pantry  and  kitchen, 
she  was  repeating, — 

"Children,  obey  your  parents  in  the  Lord,  for  this  is  right." 
Breakfast  was  over.     Nothing  cast  a  shadow  over  the  moving 


20  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

hours  but  the  thoughtful  face  of  that  mother.     She  was  asking  her- 
self,— 

*'  Was  she  cruel  to  her  only  child  whom  she  loved  so  ten- 
derly.? Why  must  Fanny,  so  quiet,  so  obedient,  so  satisfied  with 
all  other  restrictions,  why  must  she  be  so  persistently  obstinate  in 
these  religious  vagaries  ?"  She,  herself,  thought  there  were  few 
Christians.  Had  she  not  suffered  mostly  from  that  class  who  were 
styled  "followers  of  the  Lamb?"  Had  not  their  slanders  and  false 
accusations  made  her  as  an  outcast  amidst  her  own  friends,  and 
meted  out  to  her  a  future  state  of  misery  among  unbelievers  ?  —  She 
had  resisted,  and  would  still  resist  such  pharasaical  pretensions  to 
being  "  the  children  of  God."  She  was  not  an  infidel !  She  believed 
in  Christ,  but  in  a  more  loving  Savior  than  the  Orthodox  pattern. 
She  believed  in  her  Lord  as  he  was  —  going  about  with  soiled  <]jar- 
ments  and  dusty  sandals  ;  healing  the  sick  ;  giving  eyes  to  the  blind  : 
drinking  water  at  the  wayside  wells  ;  and  selecting  fishermen  for 
His  disciples.  She  did  not  believe  in  Him  seated  in  state,  in 
costly  temples,  pleased  with  the  mocking  worship  of  those  who  fol- 
lowed not  one  of  His  steps.  Doubtless  they  were  rejoicing  over 
her  own  daughter,  as  a  proselyte  to  that  same  false  faith.  She 
trusted  that  in  her  future  life,  Fanny  would  see  with  clearer  eyes, 
distinguishing  good  from  evil. 

It  was  ten  o'clock.  Fanny  had  nearly  finished  the  dishes  at  the 
sink,  when  her  mother  came  past  and  said, — 

"  If  you  will  wear  my  red  shawl  and  green  calash,  and  take  an 
umbrella,  you  may  go  to  '  meeting.'  Do  you  want  to  go  ?  You 
will  be  late." 

"  Yes  ;  I  can  be  ready  very  soon,  and  walk  fast,  you  know.  Bet- 
ter late,  than  never  1 " 

In  a  few  moments  the  tall  green  calash  was  flying  about  the 
room  on  Fanny's  head,  while  she  was  in  search  of  her  hymn-book. 
It  rose  high  above  the  smooth  brown  hair ;  and  by  frequent  pranks 
of  falling  back,  and  shutting  up  like  a  chaise  top,  it  was  seemingly 
unconscious  of  its  solemn  errand.  However,  by  means  of  its  long 
green  taste  bridle,  now  firmly  held  in  hand,  it  was  restored  to 
a  more  becoming  behavior.  The  large  umbrella  being  held  se- 
curely by  the  other  hand,  a  soft  "  Good-bye,  mother,"  called  the 
attention  of  Mrs.  Beame  j  and  as  the  grotesque  costume  went  down 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  21 

the  Steps,  she   laughed  in   spite   of  herself,  but    ended  the  matter 
by  sayino^,  "Good  enough  for  such  an  expedition." 

The  raindrops  stayed  their  purpose,  while  the  little  feet  pattered 
onward.  The  red  shawl  was  drawn  up  into  smaller  proportions, 
and  the  green  calash  was  bridled  into  a  more  reverential  form,  as 
Fanny  arrived  at  the  school-house  door. 

"Meeting"  had  commenced.  The  house  was  filled,  but  room 
was  made  for  the  little  Pilgrim  on  one  of  the  high  desks  against 
the  wall.  The  preacher  was  standing  with  right  arm  extended, 
over  which  hung  the  graceful  folds  of  a  heavy  cloak,  in  most  classi- 
cal styl^.  And  why  not?  Had  he  not  the  best  Roman  and  Greek 
authority  of  "  Dogmah  Academy,"  a  few  miles  away,  from  which  he 
had  that  morning  emanated  on  a  mission  to  this  benighted  people  ? 
In  years,  he  seemed  to  be  eighteen  or  twenty  \  while  in  piety,  pre- 
cocity and  martyr-spirit  he  almost  put  to  the  blush,  the  old  proph- 
ets. His  figures  and  tropes  excelled  those  of  Ezekiel.  There  were 
wheels  within  wheels,  with  such  an  elaborate  phantasmagoria  of 
incident  and  scenery,  as  struck  awe  into  the  minds  of  those  untu- 
tutored  youths,  and  sleepy,  brown  old  farmers. 

Poor  Fanny  began  to  think  the  heavenly  way  more  difficult  even, 
than  she  had  supposed.  Hope  almost  died  within  her,  till  from 
all  that  logic  and  learning  broke  forth  this  sentence,  "  Can  you 
expect,  my  hearers,  to  be  carried  to  the  skies  on  flowery  beds  of 
ease?"  Hope  revived.  Seizing  upon  that  idea  with  her  quick 
imagination  and  lively  perception  of  the  beauty  of  a  "flowery  bed," 
she  arrived  at  the  comfortable  conclusion  that  she  might  be  in  the 
right  path,  as  of  course,  nobody  like  her,  with  a  green  calash,  a  red 
shawl,  and  a  large  umbrella,  could  be  sailing  skyward  on  flowers. 
That  hereafter  she  should  always  so  dress  that  her  presence  would 
not  be  tolerated  on  any  "flowery  bed  of  ease."  So  much  had  she 
learned  of  her  future  duty. 

The  exercises  were  closed  by  the  preacher's  colleague,  a  pale, 
sickly  looking  youth,  but  with  infinite  strength  of  lungs,  whose 
voice  reverberated  against  the  school  house  ceiling,  as  if  the  king- 
dom of  Heaven  were  indeed  suffering  violence.  He  at  last  an- 
nounced that  the  "  weekly  Class  "  would  remain  after  the  audience 
had  retired. 

Here  was  to  be  a  new  trial  of  Fanny's  steadfastness.    To  "speak 


2  2  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

in  meeting"  was  a  great  cross  to  her  timidity,  but  she  had  heard, 
that  to  win  Christ,  that  cross  must  be  borne.  She  came  off  con- 
queror. She  would  not  be  ashamed  to  "confess  religion."  She 
would  remain  and  speak. 

Brother  Hardstone  was  class-leader  (a  man  who  made  his  home 
so  bitter,  that  wife  and  children  were  robbed  of  all  peace).  Rub- 
bing his  hands  with  zealous  fervor,  he  began  singing, — 

"  Blow  ye  the  trumpet,  blow, 

The  gladly  solemn  sound  ! 
Let  all  the  nations  know. 

To  earth's  remotest  bound  : 
The  year  of  jubilee  is  come; 
Return,  ye  ransomed  sinners,  home." 

When  some  had  arisen  and  testified  to  their  prevailing  hours  of 
darkness  and  dejection,  during  the  past  week,  and  to  the  soul-tr)'- 
ing  temptations  that  had  beset  their  path,  and  when  others  had 
acknowledged  the  goodness  of  God  in  gratifying  some  peculiar 
request  which  had  been  long  delayed,  Fanny  rose  tremblingly, 
and  with  downcast  eyes,  said, — 

"  I  am  not  ashamed  to  confess  Christ.  I  desire  to  serve  Him 
all  my  life,  and  I  desire  that  you  will  all  pray  for  me,  that  I  may 
prove  faithful  to  the  end." 

The  usual  ejaculations  of  "  Bless  God  !  "  and  "Amen  !  "  having 
died  away,  her  really  heaviest  cross  was  to  sit  passively  and  hear 
the  remarks  of  "  Father  Hardstone,"  a  leader  in  whom  she  had  no 
confidence,  and  whose  abused  daughters  were  her  especial  friends. 
But  in  his  usual  coarse  manner  he  brayed  forth, — 

"  Keep  on,  sister.  You'll  win  the  golden  crown  ; "  and  then 
passed  on  to  another. 

"  I  have  no  need  of  a  golden  crown,"  thought  Fanny.  "  I  only 
want  to  serve  my  Master,  here." 

After  a  few  other  "  experiences  "  and  uproarious  exhortations,  the 
"class"  separated.  Fanny's  ideas  of  Christian  propriety  were 
somewhat  shaken,  in  passing  through  a  knot  of  men  outside,  and 
catching  their  conversation. 

With  the  air  and  tone  of  satisfaction  one  feels  when  an  unpleas- 
ant task  is  completed.  Father  Bradley  remarked, — 

"  Fine  pfospect  of  rain,  Brother  Hardstone." 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  2$ 

"  Hope  we  shall  get  some,"  he  replied.  "  Terrible  drought. —  I'm 
afeard  the  corn  crop  '11  be  a  failure. —  My  pertatur  hills  ur  ez  dry 
ez  'n  ash  heap." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  chimed  in  Brother  Brown,  lugubriously.  "  It's  a 
pretty  poor  look  for  we  farmers,  when  everything's  a  dryin'  up." 

Little  Pilgrim  hoped  to  be  invited  to  ride  home  in  some  of  the 
rattling  wagons,  as  the  clouds  looked  more  lowery,  but  the  dusty 
work-horses  trotted  past,  shaking  their  heavy  harness,  unconscious 
of  any  small  "class-member"  by  the  wayside.  The  great  flapping 
blinders  prevented  a  side  view,  and  the  pleasant  perspective  of 
even  a  very  scant  share  of  Sabbath  rest  for  themselves,  urged  the 
tired  animals  homeward.  Fanny  walked  on,  casting  loving  glances 
at  the  mayweed  and  rabbits-foot  thronging  the  narrow  way,  and 
meditating  upon  the  conversation  of  those  farmers  at  the  door. 

''  Why  did  they  fear  the  corn  crop  might  fail?  Why  not  trust  in 
God,  as  they  exhorted  us  all,  to-day  ?  How  shall  we  trust  him  at 
all,  if  we  do  not  believe  He  will  do  for  us  what  we  cannot  do  for 
ourselves.''  We  cannot  make  one  corn  blade  grow,  but  He  can,  and 
I  am  sure  He  will." 

Just  then  she  reached  a  corn  field.  While  listening  to  its  musi- 
cal rustle,  and  watching  the  nodding  tassels  over  the  zig-zag  rails, 
a  heavy  step  came  up  after  her  and  chiming  in  with  hers.  She 
skilfully  turned  the  green  calash,  and  exclaimed,- — 

"  Why,  Henry  !  is  that  you  .?  " 

"Yes,  Fanny.  But  I'm  afraid  you  won't  think  so  well  of  me  for 
having  this  basket  of  blackberries,  to  day." 

"Well,  I'm  nobody,  Henry,  to  think  well  or  ill  of  3^ou." 

"You  are  somebody  to  me  and  my  Sue.  You  are  the  only  real 
friend  my  children  have." 

"  Well,  I  meant  to  say  there  is  one  Lord  over  all.  He  sees  things 
in  a  different  light  from  what  men  and  v/omen  do.  He  might  not 
think  it  so  wrong  that  you  should  get  some  of  His  blackberries  for 
your  supper,  as  people  would." 

"Yes,  Fann}',  I  know.  I  hope  He  is  different  from  white  folks 
in  New  England.  If  not,  I  can't  tell  why  I  was  made,  or  any  of 
my  race." 

"Why  don't  you  go  to  meeting,  Henry?  Perhaps  you  would  be 
happier,  then." 


24  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"There's  three  reasons  why,  and  good  ones  too;  but  you  must 
not  ask  me  now,  for  I  am  afraid  its  going  to  rain." 

"  No,  it  has  not  rained  yet,  and  I  don't  believe  it  will.  If  it 
does,  here  is  my  umbrella,  and  you  may  have  half.  Walk  slow,  and 
tell  me  those  reasons.  I  want  to  know.  We  are  commanded  to 
*  bear  each  other's  burdens,'  so  let  me  bear  part  of  yours." 

"Burdens!"  echoed  Henry.  "You  want  to  help  me  carry  this 
basket  of  blackberries  ?  Me,  a  great  stout  man,  and  you  no  bigger 
than  a  sparrow.  When  it  comes  to  that,  or  rains  either,  I  guess 
you'll  be  7>iy  burden,  and  I'd  tote  you  to  your  own  mother's  door 
and  set  you  down  on  her  steps,  as  dry  as  a  pin.  You're  the  won- 
derfullest  girl  I  ever  see.  You  make  me  laugh,  if  't  is  Sunday,  and 
if  my  blood  is  all  in  a  boil  thinkin'  about  '  meetins','  Christians  and 
folks." 

Fanny  perceived  her  remark  was  misunderstood,  but  from  an 
innate  tenderness  for  another's  feelings,  forbore  further  explana- 
tion ;  so  she  said, — 

"  1  understand.  You  shall  carry  the  blackberries,  and  me,  too, 
if  necessary  ;  but  do,  Henry,  tell  me  those  reasons.  Why  do  you 
not  go  to  *  meeting  ?'  " 

"Because  I  am  black  —  because  we  are  'niggers;'  and  those 
Yankee  Christians  are  worse  than  Christians  that  hold  slaves ;  for 
I  am  told  that  down  South  the  black  people  go  to  the  same  church 
with  their  masters,  and  have  the  whole  gallery,  to  sit  in.  Susan 
and  I  went  once  to  the  Presbyterian  church  up  town,  because  we 
thought  our  stayin'  away  from  meetin'  might  be  our  own  fault,  after 
all.  The  people  were  handsomely  dressed,  and  stood  all  about  on 
the  green  before  the  '  meetin'-house.'  There  was  Deacon  Pierson, 
Farmer  Fairly,  and  Farmer  Ilarker,  the  man  I  had  worked  for  and 
Susan  had  washed  for.  They  didn't  speak  to  us,  and  their  chil- 
dren just  stood  and  laughed  at  us,  as  we  walked  across  the  green. 
At  the  door,  a  man  told  us  to  sit  in  a  little  pew  under  the  stairs. 
Nobody  set  near  us,  but  they  kept  turnin'  their  heads  and  smilin' 
durin'  preachin'.  When  we  came  out  they  still  kept  laughin',  and 
I  heard  '  them  ni":£:ers, —  them  nigs^ers,'  whispered  all  around.     No- 

f  11111 

body  spoke  to  us,  but  when  we  got  home,  we   both  held  up  our 
hands  and  vowed  we'd  never  go  agin — we  would  go  to  destruction 


WAITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  2$ 

first.  They  say  there  is  such  a  place,  and  it's  no  worse  for  us  to 
choose  to  go  there,  than  it  is  for  them  to  send  us." 

"Did  you  say  Deacon  Pierson  and  Farmer  Flarker,  Henry? 
Why,  they  are  missionary  men.  They  collect  money  to  send  mis- 
sionaries to  foreign  lands,  to  the  heathen." 

"Yes,  I  said  them.  Horse  jockies  and  rum  sellers  treat  me  bet- 
ter than  Christians  and  respectable  people.  Yes,  I  know  they  are 
missionary  men  ;  for  when  I  worked  for  them  in  hay  time,  for  eight 
dollars  a  month,  and  my  children  were  both  sick,  they  tried  to  keep 
back  part  of  my  wages,  as  they  said,  '  to  send  the  Bible  to  the 
heathen.'  But  I  had  heathen  enough  in  my  own  house;  and  be- 
sides, they  gave  me  just  half  the  wages  they  paid  the  white  hired 
man,  and  I  eat  in  the  wood-shed  at  that." 

"Well,  Henry,  I  will  give  Susan  my  Bible.  You  can  find  what 
the  Savior  says.     It  will  be  a  comfort  to  you." 

"  Why,  bless  you,  child !  neither  Susan  nor  I  can  read  a  word. 
There  is  no  Bible  nor  Heaven  for  us  colored." 

"  I  thought  that  minister,  Rev.  Mr.  Pratt,  in  Connecticut,  brought 

you  up." 

"  He  did  bring  me  up,  and  that  was  all.  He  sent  me  to  school 
two  days,  but  the  children  hooted  at  me  so,  I  couldn't  stand  it. 
The  teacher  sent  word  to  Mr.  Pratt  that  she  wished  I  might  stay 
away,  I  made  so  much  trouble.  Then  he  said  he  thought  black 
and  white  ought  not  to  go  to  the  same  school,  and  he  believed 
there  was  a  law  against  it.  He  was  busy  all  day  writing  sermons 
and  making  calls  ;  so  I  did  all  the  plowing,  gardening,  and  every 
other  kind  of  work,  and  there  was  no  time  for  learning,  anyhow." 

"  It  seems  too  much  to  believe,"  replied  Fanny.  "  If  there  was 
a  church  in  Alderbank,  you  should  sit  in  our  pew,  and  if  they  made 
sport  of  you  and  Susan,  they  should  make  sport  of  us,  too." 

"  And  so  they  would.  If  we  set  with  you  in  church,  you  would 
be  hated — you  would  be  called  '  nigger'  as  well  as  we." 

"That  would  not  harm  us,"  said  Fanny,  bravely.  "But,  Henry, 
what  makes  you  live  in  that  poor  shanty  down  by  the  brook?  I'd 
save  my  money  and  buy  a  nice  little  land  and  house,  and  show  the 
town  that  I  had  the  same  rights  as  they." 

"I'll  tell  you  why.  In  the  first  place  we  have  to  work  for  halt 
wages.     Then  we  take  our  pay  in  provisions  and  old  clothes  worth 


26  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE. 

not  more  than  half  what  they  charge.  Then  if  we  had  money,  no- 
body would  sell  us  a  pleasant  or  rich  spot  of  land.  We  may  put 
up  a  shanty  in  the  backwoods,  or  down  by  some  marsh,  or  on  the 
side  of  some  sand-hill,  and  that's  all  the  foothold  on  God's  earth  we 
can  get.  There!  "  said  he,  turning  to  look  at  the  sad,  thoughtful 
face  beside  him,  "  don't  ask  me  any  more  questions,  Fanny.  You 
won't  believe  me.  I  am  sorry  I  overtook  you.  It  makes  me  feel 
wicked  to  think  of  these  things,  but  I  have  said  nothing  but  the 
solemn  truth,  before  God!^^ 

Henry,  in  his  earnestness,  had  stopped  before  her.  To  that 
Being  who  alone  had  any  mercy  in  store  for  him,  he  raised  his 
ragged  right  arm  and  helpless  black  hand,  and  slowly  repeated, — 

"  Before  God  and  His  throfie  !  " 

Fanny  halted  also.  Fler  white,  awe-struck  face  turned  upward, 
while  that  oath  was  being  registered  in  the  book  of  the  Terrible 
Avenger. 

Henry  Hughes'  arm  dropped.  The  martyr-like  heroism  passed 
away  from  his  ebon  features. 

"We  are  near  Alderbank  now,"  he  said.     "  I  must  go." 

"  Let  me  go  with  3'ou,"  said  Fanny. 

"  No,  dear  child,  you  shall  not  be  cursed  for  my  sake.  Good- 
bye." 

Missteps  glided  on,  but  a  voice  floated  after  him,  "Give  my 
love  to  Susan." 

It  reached  his  poor  heart  as  a  sunbeam  strays  through  a  stony 
casement  and  cheers  the  cold  floor  of  a  prison.  A  quick  turn  of 
the  head,  with  a  friendly  wave  of  that  accusing  hand,  and  Henry 
was  out  of  sight. 

Fanny  moved  on  slowly,  occupied  with  those  burning  words,  so 
unexpectedly  dropped  into  her  soul,  along  the  lonely  wayside.  Out 
of  the  chaos  of  that  day's  events  and  conflicting  teachings  she  en- 
deavored to  bring  order.  How  could  she  account  for  it  that  the 
very  persons  to  whom  she  looked  as  models,  did  such  strange 
things?  The  anguish  of  Henry's  face  haunted  her, —  the  hand 
raised  to  Heaven,  and  the  solemn  words,  "  Before  God." 

She  descended  from  her  spiritual  hallucinations  to  life's  real, 
earnest  joys  and  sorrows.  There  was  something  to  do  now,  besides 
speculating  on  the  probable  use  of  a  "flowery  bed  of  ease,"  and 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  Tf 

how  one  should  resist  that  tempting  vehicle  to  the  skies.  The  red 
shawl  had  fallen  from  her  shoulders,  and  the  heavy  fringe  swept 
over  feathery  grasses ;  the  green  calash  seized  upon  this  opportu- 
nity of  Fanny's  abstraction,  and  taking  to  its  pranks  again  fell  over 
backwards,  and  shut  up  as  usual.  Still  Fanny  went  on  thinking. 
One  conclusion  was  reached, —  she  would  love  Henry,  Susan,  and 
the  children,  and  all  other  black  people,  if  ever  she  found  any. 
The  trembling  lips  were  defiantly  compressed,  the  drooping  lashes 
were  wet  with  tears  which  dropped  upon  her  burning  cheeks  and 
upon  her  tightly  clasped  hymn-book. 

At  that  moment  a  white  cloud,  rifted  from  the  dark  masses  in 
the  west,  floated  over  the  blue  depths  and  dropped  a  benison  on 
the  bare  auburn  head.  The  cloud  passed  on,  and  Fanny  Beame 
was  indeed  baptized  of  the  angels. 

Ah !  little  did  that  child  imagine  while  in  the  brown  school- 
house,  and  while  so  timidly  saying,  "  I  am  not  ashamed  to  confess 
Christ;  I  desire  to  serve  him  all  my  life,"  that  she  would  so  soon 
be  taken  at  her  word.  Little  thought  she,  when  the  farmer's  horses 
trotted  so  indifferently  past,  that  Christ  would  walk  by  her  side 
and  talk  with  her  by  the  way.  She  knew  it  not,  even  now.  That 
delightful  surprise  was  left  for  the  maturity  and  development  of 
coming  years.  The  far  future  was  to  unfold  to  her  astonished 
memory  the  honor  and  glory  of  that  hour,  when  her  Savior  walked 
with  her  in  the  guise  of  the  poor  and  despised  Henry  Hughes,  and 
she  had  given  him  all  she  had  to  offer  —  her  love  and  her  tears. 

Wet  with  the  holy  sacrament  of  the  cloud,  Fanny  was  gathering 
up  her  garments  to  walk  faster,  when  a  voice  from  a  top  rail  of  the 
fence  called  out, — 

"O  Fanny  Beame  1  I  see  you,  I  see  you!  You've  been  walk- 
ing with  a  nigger,  and  going  slow,  and  talking  to  him  ! " 

This  was  the  son  of  the  agent  of  the  factory  in  Alderbank  ;  and 
Fanny  answered, — 

"No,  Johnny,  I  have  been  walking  with  a  man,  with  my  friend." 

"Oh  !  for  shame,  Fanny  Beame  1  A  nigger  ain't  a  man,  and  if 
he  is  your  friend  you  won't  make  a  very  respectable  woman.  He's 
a  Sabbath-breaker,  too,  and  a  thief,  for  he  had  a  basket  of  black- 
berries." 

"  Yes,  he  had  berries  ;  but  they  grow  for  anybody  who  chooses 


28  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

to  pick  them,  and  Henry  is  poor.  He  has  no  land  noi  orchards, 
no  apple  or  peach  trees,  and  he  wants  so?nct/iing  good.  Where 
have  you  been,  Johnny?" 

"  I've  been  digging  '  saxafax  '  root  down  here  in  the  woods,  and 
I'd  give  you  some  if  you  didn't  go  with  niggers." 

"  Oh  !  I  don't  care  for  any,"  replied  Fanny.  "  But  which  is  the 
worst,  to  pick  blackberries  or  to  dig  sassafras  root  on  Sunday  ?" 

"  To  pick  berries,  of  course  !  But  I  dig  'saxafax'  on  father's 
own  land.  '  Hen  '  Hughes  might  have  land  if  he'd  work  for  it. 
Father  says  all  these  free  niggers  in  Massachusstis  are  lazy,  and 
ought  to  be  down  South  hoeing  cotton,  then  they'd  do  some  good, 
and  we  shouldn't  have  so  many  black 'shacks  '  round  here.  And 
I  guess  he  knows  —  he's  been  there." 

"  Well,  I  never  was  ///tvr,"  was  the  indignant  reply  j  "  it  is  bad 
enough  to  be  /icre" 

Fanny  walked  on. 


CHAPTER   III. 

PARIS  w^as  sleeping.  The  slant  rays  of  a  golden  morning 
found  no  access  through  hangings  of  velvet  and  brocade. 
Blank  midnight  surrounded  the  luxurious  couches  of  the  revel- 
lers. High-born  or  parvenu,  the  gay  devotees  of  pleasure,  wearied 
with  balls,  games  and  play,  were  appropriating  these  fresh  matin 
hours  to  the  renewal  of  necessary  vigor  for  repeated  scenes  of 
nightly  festivities.  Delicious  south  winds  blew  through  magnifi- 
cent avenues, —  birds  were  gay  aud  noisy  in  their  undisturbed  war- 
blings, —  trees  seemed  wading  in  a  gilded  mist.  The  clumsy  and 
quaint  architecture  of  palaces  ,churches,  bridges  and  towers,  took 
a  definite  and  airy  tracery  from  the  flooding  of  mellow  sunshine. 
Statues,  flowers  and  fountains  gleamed  from  fairy  vistas  on  every 
side  of  the  fantastic  city.  Gold  fishes  sported  in'a  thousand  mar- 
ble basins,  or  followed  the  wake  of  white  swans  in  their  dreamy 
rounds.  —  yet  scarce  a  footfall  was  heard  in  garden,  on  terrace  or 
esplanade. 

Contrary  to  his  usual  custom,  Ralph  was  dressed  at  this  hour, 
striding  about  his  apartments,  and  making  sundry  hurried  prepa- 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  29 

rations.  March  was  busy  obeying  orders  in  all  directions  ;  but 
upon  either  face  hovered  a  sombre  shadow,  the  sure  reflection  of 
gloomy  thoughts. 

At  nine  o'clock,  Ralph,  wrapped  in  his  long  Spanish  cloak,  was 
thriddincy  his  wav  on  horseback  over  the  deserted  road  of  the  "Bois 
de  Boulogne,"  followed  by  a  half  dozen  other  horsemen.  Noth- 
ing disturbed  his  mood  of  silence  but  champing  bits,  the  muffled 
plunging  of  hoofs  in  the  soft  earth,  and  the  annoying  shafts  of 
yellow  sunlight  which  shot  across  his  way  between  the  shining  boles, 
as  if  to  search  the  secret  of  his  melancholy.  At  length,  the  wood 
was  passed ;  striking  into  a  gallop,  a  few  miles  brought  the  party 
to  a  smooth  lawn,  by  a  secluded  stream.  A  similar  party  was  al- 
ready in  waiting.  Grooms  led  away  the  horses  into  checkered 
shade.  The  parties  exchanged  salutations.  Both  then  proceeded 
to  arrange  the  preliminaries  of  that  bloody  Code  which  the  reckless 
duelist  calls  "honor,"  and  in  which  Haywood  and  a  German  class- 
njate  were  principals. 

This  was  the  last  day  of  Ralph's  stay  in  Paris ;  this  act  was  the 
performance  of  his  last  honorable  obligation. 

Frederick  Steinle  had  spoken  unguardedly  of  the  Southern  institu- 
tion of  Slavery.  He  had  taunted  America's  Flag  as  a  pharisaica^ 
emblem.  He  had  said  the  American  Eagle  fattened  on  helpless 
victims  of  the  slave-holder's  avarice  and  cruelty;  that  he  whetted  his 
beak  on  the  poor  African's  bleaching  bones,  from  the  Chesapeake 
to  the  Rio  Grande  ! 

For  this,  the  speedy  bullet  was  to  be  his  judge  and  jury  this  day. 
Frederick  Steinle  was  no  coward  ;  yet,  as  the  personal  friend  of 
Haywood,  he  had  striven  to  avoid  this  collision.  Further,  he  con- 
sidered himself  under  no  obligation  to  a  foreign  Constitution,  which 
shielded  the  enslaver,  and  his  deeds.  He  refused  to  retract  his 
words,  and  thus  prove  himself  a  fawning  dissembler. 

For  this,  he  had  been  bullied  by  daily  threats  of  assassination, 
by  insults  in  public  places,  and  repeated  challenges  ;  till  without 
other  alternative,  assent  was  given.  He  met  his  antagonist  for  the 
deadly  rencontre^  more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger.  His  finely  propor- 
tioned figure,  full  six  feet  in  height,  his  silken  hair  and  curly  brown 
mustache,  combined  with  a  ruddy  tint  of  health,  contrasted  favor- 
ably with  the  malignant,  lowering  brow  of  the  South  Carolinian. 


30  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Paces  were  measured  —  the  seconds  were  at  their  posts.  The 
word  was  given  to  fire.  Steinle's  pistol  discharged  in  air  ;  but  he, 
the  truthful  and  brave,  reeled,  and  fell  dying  to  the  grecn-sward. 
Those 'gathering  about  him,  caught  his  last  words.  "Farewell, 
mother  !  "  whispered  from  his  pallid  lips. 

Haywood  cooly  mounted,  and  rode  away,  seemingly  a  Knight  of 
the  Middle  Ages.  This  child  of  Protestantim,  and  citizen  of  a  Dem- 
ocratic Republic,  drawing  his  cloak  about  him,  left  his  dying  friend 
like  a  barbaric  cavalier.  Had  he  not  been  dubbed  a  son  of  Chiv- 
alry, by  his  "companions  in  arms"  on  the  "sacred  soil  of  South 
Carolina  ? "  Had  they  not  thrown  over  him  the  "  Red  Garment," 
which  was  to  mark  his  resolution  to  shed  his  blood  in  the  cause  of 
Heaven  ?  "  Had  he  not  displayed  the  requisite  keen  sense  of  honor 
in  his  ruthless  intolerance  of  this  infidel  and  heretic?  Had  he  not 
shown  fidelity  to  his  obligations,  in  all  the  strictness  of  the  letter, 
disdaining  compromise  with  friendship  and  circumstances  ? 

The  strongest  tie  of  the  chivalry  of  Slavery,  —  , 

"Brother  be  now  true  to  me, 
And  I  shall  be  as  true  to  thee," 

was  a  sacred  principle  ;  had  it  not  claimed,  and  recieved  the  exer- 
cise of  his  valor  ? 

Frederick's  faintly  throbbing  breast  was  bared.  It  was  past 
medical  skill  to  call  back  that  life.  From  the  ragged  wound  ebbed 
the  last  crimson  remnant  of  vitality,  and  the  blood  of  another 
martyr  to  the  American  Inquisition,  stained  the  velvet  sod  of 
France. 

According  to  his  directions  previously  given,  the  attendants  drew 
from  his  pocket  a  letter  superscribed  with  his  name,  a  few  damp 
curls  were  cut  from  his  hair  and  enclosed  within  it,  to  be  returned 
to  the  mother  who  sent  it.  Above  the  beautiful  white  face,  manly 
eyes  grew  moist  while  reading,  — 

Mein  liebling  Frederick,  mein  schoner  Sohn, —  From  the  tenor  of  your 
last  letter,  it  is  the  happy  time  for  your  return  to  that  home  which  awaits  the 
joy  of  your  presence.  My  heart  faints  to  see  the  long  absent  face.  Come  to 
your  mountains,  valleys  and  vine-gardens.  Let  them  echo  again  to  your  voice 
in  the  old-time  songs  of  Fatherland.  We  need  your  strength  and  care  to  take 
the  place  of  your  dead  father,  etc.,  etc. 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  3 1 

Day  wore  away,  this  last  day  oE  Haywood's  untramelled  life 
"abroad."  Packages  of  costly  bijouterie,  and  elegant  fabrics; 
masterpieces  from  the  artist's  pencil,  aud  sculptor's  chisel,  had  been 
purchased,  and  lay  strewn  about  the  unpacked  trunks.  The  familiar 
squares  of  sunlight  crept  steadily  along  the  polished  floor,  fast  losing 
rio-ht-angular  proportions.  The 'Knight  of  the  Middle  Ages '^was 
tardily  yielding  to  the  half  enlightened  conscience  of  the  Nine- 
teenth century.  The  morning  shadow  on  his  face  sank  into  his  soul. 
Thoughts  of  another's  trunks  which  should  have  been  filled  with 
precious  mementos  on  that  eventful  day,  but  which  now  awaited 
the  careless  and  sacrilegious  hand  of  strangers,  filled  his  mind. 

Callous  as  were  his  feelings,  from  having  been  raised  among 
scenes  of  brutality  and  outrage,  and  faintly  as  glowed  the  native 
liaht  of  conscience  which  the  Hand  of  Omnipotence  had  set 
wTthin,  its  dim  flame  had  received  a  shock  which  sent  its  blazing 
gleams  along  every  fibre  of  his  being.  He  could  blot  out  the  life  of 
a  fellow  mortal ;  but  it  was  beyond  his  philosophy  to  extinguish  those 
luminous  rays  destined  to  be  quenchless. 

Bent,  however,  on  concealing  these  so  called  ignoble  emotions, 
IMarch  was  left  to  trunks  und  packages,  while  his  master  strolled 
out  into  the  busy  street,  and  finally  sought  the  convivialities  of  a 
farewell,  complimentary  dinner. 

Ni^^ht  found  him  ascending  the  marble  staircase  of  one  of  the 
exclusive  gambling  clubs  of  Paris.  His  jeweled  hand  flashed  along 
the  gilt  balustrades,  as  it  carelessly  sought  support  in  his  progress. 
Entering  folding  doors  held  by  courtly  liveries,  exchanging  saluta- 
tions in'English,  French  or  German,  he  stood  amidst  palatial  and 

princely  splendors.  ,      .  , 

.      Colonnades   of   slender,    graceful    shafts,    crowned    with   palm- 
wreathed  capitals,  rose  to  the  lofty  roof.     Mirrors,  blue  and  silver 
hangings,  and  carpets  like  woven  gardens,  stretched  away  from  the  ^ 
fascinated  vision.     Beneath  a  galaxy  of  light  that  mocked  the  mid-  ' 
day  sun,  the  duelist  paused,  bearing  in  his  own   breast  a  phosphor- 
escent sea  of  troubled  thoughts  that  out-burned  it  all. 

Down  the  far  aisles,  studded  with  groups  of  fair  women,  clad  in 
the  opulence  of  silks,  laces,  pearls  and  jewels,  ran  his  ravished 
gaze ;  but  ever  and  anon,  there  gleamed  forth  on  his  vision,  the 
wan  face  of  a  prone  and  helpless  figure.    His  heart  yearned  toward 


32  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

the  dead, —  dead  from  his  own  giiilty  hand,  that  had  so  often  with 
fraternal  grasp,  met  the  warm  clasp  of  Frederick  Steinle  in  the  fes- 
tive career  of  student  life. 

Sweet  and  tremulous  music  floated  in  with  odors  from  conserva- 
tories, forming  an  enchanted  atmosphere  of  exquisite  delight ;  but  a 
sound  unheard  by  others,  changed  the  mellifflaous  strains  into  dis- 
cord. A  well  remembered  death- shot  seemed  repeated  in  his 
brain,  till  he  looked  to  see  the  players  at  the  game  of  hazard  fall 
from  their  seats,  leaving  himself  living  and  alone. 

He  seated  himself  for  the  game.  His  hand  held  the  cards  un- 
steadily. With  an  air  of  indifference  he  saw  the  last  of  his  remit- 
tance gathered  up  by  fortunate  and  clear-headed  winners.  At 
length,  turning  from  the  gorgeous  scene,  haunted  and  desperate, 
he  rushed  to  the  carriage,  whirled  to  his  own  door,  and  there 
cursed  March,  cursed  trunks,  voyages,  and  Paris  itself,  then  sought 
quiet  in  sleep. 

Ralph  Haywood,  like  all  other  men,  was  only  "clay  in  the  hand 
of  the  potter,"  formed  to  tremble  after  such  violation  of  every 
instinct  of  humanity  and  justice.  He  now  suffered  the  inevitable 
penalty  of  his  transgression.  So  the  murderer  could  not  sleep. 
The  room  seemed  flooded  with  broad  daylight,  when  black  dark- 
ness veiled  the  earth.  Abroad,  mingling  with  the  world,  adhering 
to  the  strictest  comities  of  life,  he  was  considered  a  fearless,  un- 
compromising, reckless  aristocrat.  But  here,  in  his  chamber,  alone 
with  his  crime,  and  Omniscience,  he  was  a  mere  child,  a  pris- 
oner in  a  cell,  an  autumn  leaf  at  the  mercy  of  the  winds. 

Morning  broke  at  length.  Glad  to  be  free  from  himself,  Ralph 
completed  his  toilet  by  donning  the  mask  of  complaisance  and 
gayety,  that  he  might  wear  his  laurels  becomingly. 

Mankind  are  easily  duped.  The  ruse  succeeded,  and  became 
reciprocal.  Congratulations  were  the  order  of  the  morning.  Stu- 
dents, snobs,  cockneys,  jockeys,  sportsmen,  with  a  sprinkling  of 
'"Lords,"  *' Counts"  and  Sirs"  came  in  due  procession  before  our 
high  priest  of  the  Duello.     One  remarked,  on  taking  his  hand, — 

'•  Brilliant  success  yesterday,  Haywood,"  although  a  secret  hor- 
ror crept  to  the  roots  of  the  speaker's  hair. 

"  You're  a  dead  shot,"  echoed  another,  booted  and  spurred. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  33 

"I  should  like  your  eye  and  nerve,"  said  a  third,  toying  with  a 
dog-whistle. 

"  Haywood's  hand  and  nerve  have  had  a  most  perfect  training, " 
replied  a  young  Prussian  student  ;  and  a  cold  shudder  ran  over 
him,  also. 

"The  American  Flag  should  command  respect  wilh  such  able 
defenders  abroad,"  said  a  young  Count  Petrovsk. 

"  Aye,  aye,"  returned  Lord  Sutledge  ;  "  the  Republic  has  a  well 
defined  policy,  and  ]Mr.  Haywood  has  carried  it  out  admirably." 

This  levee'  was  short.  As  the  others  were  retiring,  Lord  Mal- 
vern dropped  in  to  make  his  adieus.     When  alone,  Malvern  said, — 

"So  you  are  indeed  going?  Why  hasten  in  midwinter?  You 
will  have  ample  time  to  assume  the  responsibihties  of  plantation 
life  to  leave  later." 

"  What  with  delays  in  London  and  New  York,  I  shall  not  see 
Charleston  till  the  beginning  of  March.  And  then,  my  lord.  Dame 
Fortune  is  inexorable.  She  deals  an  iron  hand  —  spades  are 
trumps,  and  hearts  lead.  Fu'st,  rice  and  cotton  fields.  Second, 
that  languishing   '  Grace  ! '  " 

"  The  ace  of  hearts,  your  intended,  I  suppose,"  said  his  friend, 
*'  and  you  will  follow  suit." 

"  Not  a  suit  !  I'll  trump !  Curse  the  whole  thing.  I  shall 
marry,  doubtless,  according  to  custom,  set  up  an  establishment, 
and  pass  for  a  most  exemplary  conjiix.  But,  my  lord,  life  in 
Charleston  is  a  gay  life.  Married  or  single,  a  man  may  be  a  Sul- 
tan, and  his  house  a  harem." 

"  Preposterous,  Haywood  !  You  have  unsettled  sober  sense  by 
too  deep  a  potation.  You  run  riot  over  connubial  bliss.  Are 
not  the  affections  exclusive,  and  do  they  not  instinctively  cluster 
upon  one  fair  object.     Your  assertions  are  too  broad  for  belief." 

"  Nevertheless,  it  is  even  so,  my  lord.  The  Southerner  marries 
for  blood  and  estates.  The  Constitution  of  the  United  States 
grants  us  no  titles  of  nobility,  but  Slavery  is  crystalized  within  it  ; 
that  gives  us  the  absolute  power  of  born  sovereigns.  Therefore,  the 
best  blood  is  carefully  preserved  incontaminated,  and  estates  are 
kept,  by  marriages,  in  the  first  families.  For  love, —  that  love  which 
springs  up  naturally  in  every  human  breast,  we  select  for  ourselves 
from  the  browns  and  brunettes,  one  meets  at  every  step.     One  has 


34  WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE. 

only  to  choose  according  to  taste ;  and  when  love  cloys  with  pos- 
session, the  auction-block  at  home,  or  the  cane-brakes  of  Louisiana 
prove  an  easy  relief." 

"And  so,  Ralph,  you  consider  marriage  a  barrier  to  the  seraglio- 
like freedom  otherwise  enjoyed  ?  " 

'■^  Mais  unc  bar)'iere petite !  —  Tilings  go  on  similarly,  in  that  case. 
The  only  difficulty  is  a  frequent  rencofitfe  in  the  conjugal  depart- 
ment. Domestic  tranquility  is  too  often  troubled  by  flashing  eyes 
and  arrowy  words.     It  is  inconvenient.     C'est tout'^ 

"  Hold  !  You  are  but  a  young  man,  yet  you  speak  like  one  ini- 
tiated.    Your  words  have  the  ring  of  experience." 

"By  the  infernal !  jSIalvern,  am  I  not  initiated?  Was  I  not  born 
and  raised  among  Southern  customs.''  Have  I  not  seen  childish, 
harmless  wives  changed  into  jealous  fiends  by  this  same  latitude 
of  circumstances  .'*  The  Carolina  Turk  does  not  go  to  Circassia 
i)Our  acheter  des  esdaves ;  he  finds  them  made  to  order  at  his  own 
door.  Quadroons  and  octaroons, —  aye,  and  blue-eyed,  fair-haired 
minxes,  in  whose  veins  flows  the  noblest  Southern  blood,  still  fol- 
lowing the  condition  of  the  slave-mother,  according  to  our  consid- 
erate laws." 

With  a  thoughtful  and  contemptuous  expression  at  these  cool 
revelations,  Lord  Malvern  briefly  replied, — 

"  Your  land  must  be  strewn  with  broken  hearts,  and  paved  with 
trampled  affections." 

"Nay,  not  so  fast.  Chattels  are  not  supposed  to  have  hearts  ; 
and  if  they  should  indulge  in  this  forbidden  luxury,  there  is  one 
grand  remedy.     That  sets  all  matters  right." 

"  Pray  what  is  that  t  " 

"  For  the  jealous  spouse,  indifference  and  travel.  For  the  hesi- 
tating arrogance  and  useless  tears  of  the  harem,  the  work- house  or 
cotton-field.  A  few  days  at  the  hoe  in  the  hot  sun,  bring  back 
sense  and  reason." 

During  this  conversation,  March  had  been  busy  arranging  his 
master's  travelling  cases,  but  now  he  paused  and  stood  forgetfully, 
with  his  back  to  the  talkers.  For  some  reason,  both  gentlemen 
raised  their  eyes  simultaneously.  The  tell-tale  mirror  hurled  back 
to  their  observation,  the  torture  and  agonized  expression  of  the 
slave  before  them.  He  drank  in  every  word  of  Ralph's  confes- 
sions.    His  beating  heart  and  reeling  biain  were  swift  witnesses 


WAITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK  JUNE.  35 

of  the  awful  truth.  Oblivious  to  mirrors,  and  to  himself,  memory 
went  back  into  the  dreary  past.  With  hands  clasped,  and  lips 
moving,  his  eyes  were  raised  to  Him  who  alone  heard  the  cry  of 
American  bondsmen. 

Swift  as  lightning  springs  from  clouded  skies,  from  the  murky 
atmosphere  of  that  room,  darted  forth  the  sharp  voice  of  the  slave- 
holder,— 

'•  March,  you  devil !  what  are  you  doing  ?  —  Practising  '  Lot's 
wife  ?' — A  pillar  of  salt  is  less  useful  to  me  now,  than  a  live  ser- 
vant. Take  tliose  keys  from  the  trunks !  Go,  bring  refresh- 
ments ! " 

The  vision  in  the  mirror  changed  aspect.  Hands  and  eyes 
dropped  quickly  to  the  respectful,  "  I  will,  sir." 

Fruit,  wine  and  cigars  came  in.  The  presence  of  March  brought 
a  frown  to  his  master's  face.  He  was  dispatched  on  a  longer  er- 
rand, both  for  Ralph's  relief,  and  to  give  opportunity  for  further 
conversatfon  with  his  noble  friend. 

The  glowing  wane  was  poured.  Ruby  bubbles  danced,  and 
broke  on  its  surface,  while  clusters  of  delicious  grapes  were  made 
to  yield  up  their  amber  hearts,  and  w^ere  then  carelessly  tossed 
upon  the  silver  salver.  The  fragrant  wrappings  of  oranges  fell  in 
fragments  at  their  feet,  and  he  resumed, — 

"  Yes,  I  hate  him  !  There  is  a  tie  between  us  which  cannot  be 
regarded.  His  dark  skin  and  my  white  face  have  relationship. 
March  is  my  half-brother  —  my  father's  son  —  and  before  his 
death,  was  his  pet.  He  was  given  to  me  that  his  life  might  pass 
more  pleasantly  than  in  home  servitude." 

"  Does  he  know  the  facts  ? " 

"  Assuredly  he  does.  But  he  as  well  knows  that  I  am  his  mas- 
ter, and  he  the  slave      I  take  good  care  to  make  him  feel  that.'' 

"Yet  he  appears  to  bear  his  lot  with  magnanimity,  and  to  ren- 
der you  the  respect  due  from  his  position." 

Ah  !  void  le  trouble  I  His  very  patience  is  execrable  !  His  fidel- 
ity is  no  allegiance  to  me^  but  is  rendered  to  a  soft-eyed  octaroon 
across  the  water,  whom  he  calls  wife."  "* 

"  Why  an  aggravation  .''  That  may  secure  his  services  to  your- 
self, and  bind  him  to  return.  Otherwise,  he  might  take  the  free- 
dom which  France  offers." 


36  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"Because  he  came  between  me  and  m}^  prize.  Because  lie  took 
from  me,  without  an  effort,  what  I  strove  for,  and  lost — whicli 
neither  promises  nor  threats  could  obtain.  By  Jove  !  my  lord, 
Flora  was  '  r//<z/-;//^;/A',' slender,  graceful,  modest.  Her  dark  melt- 
ing eyes  ravished  me  ;  her  silken  black  hair  fell  into  a  wealth  of 
rinirs  and  tovins:  curls.  And  her  teeth  I  Afon  Z>/t7/ /  they  rivalled 
the  pearls  of  the  East.  Being  a  house  servant,  I  had  nothing  to 
do  but  follow  her,  and  try  to  win.  I  could  have  called  her  mine, 
but  for  the  presence  of  this  cursed  servant,  March,  and  my  father's 
idiotic  affection  for  him." 

"  You  spoke  of  the  lash  as  a  remedy.  Did  you  bring  that  to 
bear  in  your  favor?  " 

"Nay,  my  lord  ;  but  for  no  lack  of  will  on  my  part.  The  hour 
was  appointed,  and  the  number  was  ordered,  when  my  father  inter- 
fered, and  took  Flora  North,  to  wait  ujDon  my  mother  during  the 
summer  tour.  Oh !  it  was  madness  to  see  that  cheek  flush  at  the 
sound  of  the  quiet  step  of  March.  To  see  the  eyes  which  never 
raised  in  my  presence,  lift  their  long  lashes,  and  shed  their  full 
glory  on  ki??t.  Towards  me,  she  was  like  a  rock  —  firm  as  adamant. 
Sometimes  I  poured  upon  her  a  torrent  of  curses  and  threats.  The 
only  reply  was,  '  Master  Ralph,  I  must  he  faithful  to  March.  I 
have  promised  him  that,  and  Heaven  is  my  witness.  I  am  in  your 
hands  —  God  be  my  helper.'  " 

"And  she  was  married.'"' 

"Yes,  as  much  as  slaves  ever  are  —  went  from  the  house  to  live 
with  him  in  one  of  the  quarters,  down  in  the  edge  of  the  pines, 
filling  them  with  the  delirium  of  her  song — ^ Prima  doniia^  to  all 
the  mocking  birds  in  the  region.  But  I  reckon  some  of  the  strings 
of  her  harp  are  unstrung,     i  purposely  brought  March  to  Europe." 

"  How  many  years  since,  Haywood  ?  " 

"  Four  years,  my  lord  ;  but  it  will  be  ten  times  that,  before  they 
meet  again.  Damn  her  pious  cant !  she  shall  see  how  God  is  her 
helper.  My  revenge  will  be  sweet ;  she  is  sold  to  the  cane-fields 
of  Louisiana.  I  was  out  of  pocket-money  when  about  to  cross  ihe 
Mediterfanean  —  sold  five  chattels  for  expenses ;  among  them, 
Mrs.  Flora  I  AIoji  bel  Arabe\v2iS  purchased  with  her  price  —  a  pleas- 
ant souvenir  for  me,  Sir." 

"  Quite  a  drama,  Haywood,  for  one  plantation,  in  which   you 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  37 

have  been  a  leading  and  successful  actor  !  "  and  Lord  Malvern, 
holding  in  hand  his  last  sparkling  cup  arose  to  go.  Raising  it  to 
his  lips  he  said, — 

*'  Here  is  to  your  voyage,  my  friend  !  Let  winds  and  waves  be 
propitious." 

Ralph  stepped  forward  and  placed  his  hand  familiarly  upon  his 
companion's  shoulder. 

'•  I  am  under  the  necessity  of  holding  you  to  your  promise.  Lord 
Malvern.  On  the  night  of  the  duel,  the  last  of  my  remittance  slid 
from  my  hands  at  the  gaming  table  !  Not  a  sous  left  !  A  loan  of 
two  thousand  will  carry  me  through.  The  hours  have  flown  —  I 
must  be  away." 

"  Send  for  it  immediately,"  Malvern  replied.  "  The  money  is 
yours  at  any  moment  you  may  chose  to  take  it."  A  final  an  I'Cvoir 
left  the  travellers  to  complete  arrangements. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

IT  was  a  New  England  winter  at  Alderbank.  Snows  had  fallen 
over  field  and  street  ;  fierce  northwesters  howUng  through  the 
tree-tops  had  heaped  the  feathery  depths  to  miniature  mountain 
ranges  along  the  various  thoroughfares,  and  around  the  dw^ellings. 
Lumbering  oxen,  powdered  with  the  pearly  dust,  plunged  and  wal- 
lowed through  the  great  drifts.  Streams  wore  glassy  coats  of  ice 
and  the  village  boys  on  skates,  darted  over  them  with  the  rapid  evo- 
lutions of  flies  in  the  summer  air. 

The  square  tavern  at  the  Corner  sent  forth  from  its  barroom, 
reeking  fumes  of  misery  within.  Young  and  old  ;  broadcloth  and 
rags  ;  the  firm  step,  and  the  unsteady  gait,  came  and  went  through 
its  e\^er-open  outer  door.  The  blaze  of  its  windows  shone  out  on 
the  frozen  darkness,  as  if  lighted  by  the  flames  of  Tartarus.  They 
stared  out  into  the  late  hours  of  night,  like  fiery  eye-balls,  the 
blight,  and  curse  of  the  fair  hamlet  and  its  inhabitants. 

The  old  tavern,  a  burning  blotch  upon  the  morality  of  the  town, 
was  nevertheless  considered  a  necessity  to  the  community.  None 
but   a   few   so-called   eccentric  individuals    had  ever  condemned 


38  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

it,  —  those  whose  perverse  views  like  straggling  vines,  would  not  be 
nailed  to  customs,  but  reaching  over  into  the  highways  and  byways 
of  humanit}^  were  forever  blossoming  into  heterodox  truths.  The 
clergy,  and  other  religious  guardians  of  Alderbank  contemplated 
this  tavern  with  the  utmost  complaisance.  They  rather  regarded  the 
time  honored  institution  as  a  useful  commentary  on  the  total  de- 
pravity of  human  nature  ;  giving  temper  and  point  to  that  theolog- 
ical dogma.  Like  Vesuvius  in  the  green  heart  of  Italy,  scorching 
and  crisping  the  sweet  valleys  at  its  base,  the  old  "  village  tavern  " 
poured  its  lava  over  the  the  tenderest,  and  holiest  hopes  of  the  wo- 
men and  children  in  that  vicinity. 

This  was  an  age,  too,  when  every  rural  home  was  modeled  on 
certain  principles.  "  ^linutes  make  hours  ; "  "  Cents  make  dol- 
lars ; "  and  Catechisms  make  christians ; "  were  among  them. 
Deacon  Steele  had  an  eye  to  the  first  two  of  these  axioms,  as  he 
rubbed  his  cold  hands  at  break  of  day  ov^er  the  hot  kitchen  stove, 
and  hurried  the  family  to  "prayer,"  while  the  hired  man  harnessed 
the  horses.  Corn  had  taken  a  sudden  rise,  and  potatoes  were  in 
brisk  demand  ;  and  a  lively  penny  required  business  dispatch. 

The  frosty  air  stirred  the  life  and  nerve  of  the  Deacon's  handsome 
span,  the  very  hills  and  valle3's  seemed  to  wake  from  their  chill 
shrouds,  and  glide  away  past  the  flying  sleigh.  Hemlocks  and 
pines  muffled  in  ermine,  and  shivering  oaks  in  russet,  seemed 
equally  intent  on  business,  though  in  the  opposite  direction,  and 
rushed  by  precipitately.  Thin  columns  of  smoke  from  the  chimneys 
of  the  scattered  farm-houses  began  to  grow  red  in  the  tardy  rays  of 
the  sun ;  and  the  dogs,  bounding  out  from  warm  sheds,  bayed  at 
the  passing  bells. 

At  nine  o'clock,  the  bargain  had  been  struck  —  cash  for  the  cor- 
pulent corn-cribs' — cash  for  the  huge  bins  of  potatoes  in  the  cellar. 

At  ten  o'clock,  horses  and  driver  awaited  the  Deacon's  pleasure, 
before  the  door  of  the  square  tavern  in  Alderbank.  Quite  natural 
that  he  should  drop  in  to  warm,  and  learn  the  news  of  the  day. 

In  the  course  of  this  dela}^  a  slight  girlish  figure,  dressed  in  a 
cloak  of  Scotch-plaid,  and  a  hood  edged  with  swan's  down,  ap- 
proached the  tavern  corner.  Her  eyes  first  turned  admiringly  upon 
the  horses ;  drawing  nearer,  she  raised  them  to  the  driver,  still 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  39 

bright  with  the  love  she  bore  the  animals.  Recognizing  an  old 
friend,  she  exclaimed. 

"  O  Henry  !  is  that  you  ?     What  pretty  horses  !  " 

"  Yes,  its  me,  Fanny  !  and  these  are  pretty  horses  ;  but  this  morn- 
is  too  cold  for  a  white  dove  like  you,  to  be  out  walking  !  " 

"  Not  a  bit,  Henry."  By  this  time  she  was  at  the  side  of  the 
sliegh,  offering  him  her  mittened  hand. 

"  What  a  girl  you  are  !  to  stop  here  in  the  street,  and  shake  hands 
with  me  !     The  bar-room  is  filled  with  curious  eyes." 

"  Oh  !  I  don't  mind  the  men  !  They  have  no  principle.  That 
is  a  terrible  place,  Henry  !  do  you  ever  go  in  there  .-' " 

"Me  ?  No  !  they  are  white  folks  !  They  would  n't  have  me  in 
there  !  You  don't  learn  these  things  as  fast  as  I  do.  But  old  '  Tad ' 
the  hostler,  hobbled  out  here  with  a  glass  of  sling  —  and  gave  me 
a  kind  word  besides." 

"  What  did  he  say  ?  " 

"  He  said,  '  Here  !  drink  this,  it  will  warm  you  !  Your  coat 's 
nothin'  but  a  sieve  for  this  nor'-wester  to  blow  through,  an'  they 
won't  let  you  in  by  the  fire.  Drink  it !  I  paid  for 't.  1  know  what 
'tis  to  freeze,  and  be  kicked  round  under  foot  like  a  dog." 

"  Yes  ;  I  like  '  old  Tad  '  for  his  kindness  to  you  ;  but,  I  don't 
want  anybody  to  drink  even  one  glass.  This  place  has  destroyed 
many  a  man,  young  and  old.  Why  did  you  not  drive  round  to  our 
house,  hitch  the  horses  in  our  yard,  and  go  in  by  the  fire,  to  warm  ? 
Susan  comes  quite  often." 

The  old  sign  on  the  green,  swinging  fiercely  in  the  blast,  creaked 
out  in  its  highest  key,  as  if  to  say,  —  '*  Why  didn't  you  go  Henry  ? " 

Deacon  Steele  came  to  the  door,  flushed  with  his  brandy,  and 
corn  prospects.     He  exclaimed,  — 

"  'Pon  my  word  !  Here  is  Fanny  Beame  !  Well,  well !  the  roses 
are  blowing  on  your  cheeks  if  they  are  dead  everywhere  else. 
'  Hen  !  '  is  she  teasing  you  for  a  ride  ?  Haul  off  them  blankets  ! 
Tuck  her  into  them  buffaloes,  and  give  her  a  ride  round  the  square, 
home.     Make  'em  dance,  '  Hen  ' !  let  her  hear  the  bells  lively !  " 

Once  in  the  sleigh,  and  ready  to  go,  the  Deacon  called  out, — 

"  Fanny !  I  forgot  to  tell  you  we  are  going  to  have  a  protracted 
meeting  at  our  church,  next  week;  and  Alary  says  she  shall  have 
you  to  stay  with  her,  so  I  '11  send  '  Hen  '  after  you." 


40  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

Pawing  the  snow,  shaking  their  fiery  heads  and  flying  manes, 
the  span  tore  away,  glad  to  warm  themselves  again.  Fanny  tells 
Henry  not  to  drive  so  fast,  as  she  likes  to  ride  slow,  and  admire 
ihem. 

"  Any  way  to  please  you,  Miss  Fanny,  for  I  suppose  the  Deacon, 
once  in  that  bar-room,  would  never  know  the  time  o'  day  any  more. 
He  *s  one  of  the  influential  men  of  the  town  —  those  fellows  in  there 
flatter  him,  and  he  pays  back  in  'flips'  and  'slings." 

With  a  gay  laugh,  Fanny  said,  — 

"\Vell !  you  have  learned  one  big  word,  haven't  vou  Henry?  — 
'Influential'!" 

"Yes,  I've  learned  several;  but  if  I  should  undertake  to  use 
them  all,    I  should  fix  them  in  the  v>Tong  places,  I  expect." 

"  Repeat  them  to  me  !  Do  !  Just  look  at  those  ears  !  What 
beauties  !     Do  you  not  love  these  horses?  " 

"  I  like  horses  better  than  men." 

"Tell  me  the  words,  now  ;"  she  said — mixing  up  the  serious 
and  comical  in  a  highly  enjoyable  manner. 

"I  beg  you  to  excuse  me,  :Miss  Fanny.  I  don't  like  to  offend 
you  ;  you'll  think  me  very  wicked  !  Tliey  are  what  you  may  call 
holy  words  !     Whoa  !  '  Sultan  '  —  steady  —  boy  !  " 

"  How  the  snow  sparkles  in  the  sun  !  we  fly  through  the  drifts  ! 
What  is  the  name  of  the  other?  " 

"  '  Czar,'  they  call  him.  I'll  bring  him  down  :  they  are  as  gentle 
as  lambs." 

"  '  Czar  '  and  '  Sultan  ' !  Splendid  !  Do  you  think  I  could  drive 
them^  if  you  look  after  me  ?  " 

The  reins  were  placed  carefully  in  her  hands  ;  Henry  saying, — 

"There,  hold  them  just  so;  pull  steady,  Miss  Fanny;"  and  his 
dark  face  beamed  with  delight,  as  his  hands  rested  on  his  patched 
knees. 

"  Now  tell  me  the  words  ?  "  She  asked  again,  looking  straight  at 
her  beautiful  charge.     ''I  don't  think  you  are  wicked  !  " 

"  Well ;  I  know  'depravity,'  '  piety,' '  under  conviction,'  *  edified,' 
'justified,'  'pearly  gates,'  'golden  crowns,'  'despair,'  darkness,' 
*  experience  ' ;  that  is,  I  know  the  words  ;  but  I  don't  see  how  they 
mean  anything,  they  never  helped  me,  nor  Susan,  nor  the  children 
to  get  bread  and  clothes." 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  4I 

"Perhaps  so,  Henry.  But  these  words  don't  mean  'bread  and 
clothes  ' —  they  are  holy  words  —  church  words.  Me  !  how  their 
feet  throw  the  snowballs  against  the  dasher !  going  up  this  hill. 
Can  I  turn  this  corner  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Henry.  "Draw  this  rein  a  little.  There  !  easy  on 
the  bit." 

With  a  few  spirited  springs  up  the  declivity,  they  stopped  in  the 
yard.  His  hand  was  quickly  on  the  reins  ;  and  Fanny,  after  pat- 
ing  their  glossy  necks,  entered  the  house. 

"  Quite  aristocratic  for  a  plebian  !  Dashed  up  in  fine  style  !  A 
matched  pair,  and  biack  driver  !  Ah  1  Lady  Fan  !  Would  not  do 
to  send  you  South  !  "  exclaimed  her  brother,  sitting  on  the  com- 
fortable settee,  surrounded  with  Greek  and  Hebrew  books. 

"  Hush,  Richard,  Deacon  Steele  sent  me  home.  I  had  a  charm- 
ing ride.  Henry  is  no  servant  —  I  drove  myself.  But  he  has  been 
waiting  a  long  time  before  the  bar-room  door,  and  is  nearly 
frozen  !  " 

Henry  entered  meekly,  and  was  seated  by  Richard  Beame,  near 
the  stove.     He  said  to  him  dryly ; 

"Take  care,  Henry!  Do  not  allow  this  sister  of  mine  to  rule 
you,    she  is  a  bit  of  a  tyrant." 

'•  I  am  too  happy  to  serve  her !  She  never  makes  me  feel  my 
nothingness,  like  many  others." 

"'  She  makes  me  feel  my  nothingness  in  theology,"  said  Richard  ; 
"  however,  after  a  little  more  Hebrew,  I  think  I  can  measure  lances 
with  her.  But  Fanny,  3'ou  should  pour  a  cup  of  coffee  for  our  friend, 
and  look  up  some  lunch  also,  for  that  compliment." 

The  coffee-pot  was  steaming  on  the  stove  ;  and  while  Fanny  was 
preparing  the  refreshing  beverage,  Mrs.  Beame  said, — 

"  I  cannot  imagine,  Henry,  how  you  keep  warm,  with  such  cloth- 
ing.    Have  you  no  other  coat  .'' " 

"No  other,  Madam  ;  my  wages  barely  keep  Susan  and  me  and  the 
children  in  food.  I  could  get  a  good  second-handed  coat  ;  but  the 
church  ladies  are  getting  together  all  such  things,  to  send  in  a  box 
to  the  missionaries  among  the  Indians.  They  bring  them  to  Mrs. 
Steele's  to  be  packed." 

"  And  you  are  too  modest  to  ask  for  one  ? " 

''  I  suffered  so  much  v.ith  the  cold,  I  was  oblidged  to  ask  ;  but  I 


42  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

offered  to  pay  for  it.  Mrs.  Greene,  one  of  the  ladies,  said  I  could 
have  one  for  five  dollars  —  that  it  cost  thirty  when  it  was  new.  I 
asked  Deacon  Steele  for  the  money,  but  he  said  it  was  pretty  well 
used  up  now  ;  so  I  lost  the  coat." 

"  I  am  not  surprised,''  replied  Mrs.  Beame.  "  I  have  observed 
the  ways  of  the  church  for  years.  They  will  be  eaten  up  by  Can- 
nibals abroad,  rather  than  follow  Christ  at  home !  " 

Then  Fanny,  always  fearful,  lest  her  mother  should  speak  too 
strongly,  mildly  interfered,  saying,  — 

"  ^rhe  deacon  is  a  kind  man  ;  you  know  he  sent  me  home  in  his 
sleigh." 

The  mother  replied, — 

''  He  is  a  man  who  will  carry  pretty  girls  to  ride  as  long  as  he 
lives  ;  but  who  ever  saw  his  horses  prancing  up  to  the  crazy  doors 
of  our  six  or  eight  black  families  in  this  town,  to  carry  comforts  for 
their  destitution  ?  and  you  well  know  my  daughter,  how  great  that 
is.  Who  ever  saw  him  carrying  those  forsaken  people  to  the  pro- 
tracted meeting,  to  save  t/ic/r  souls  ?  " 

"  My  dear  mother!  "said  Richard,  "you  know  this  is  not  the 
custom.  It  does  not  affect  the  value,  or  truth  of  our  religion,  that 
its  professors  do  not  live  '  up  to  their  privileges.'  We  will  try  to  do 
our  duty,  and  throw  the  mantle  of  charity  over  the  faults,  or  short- 
comings of  others.  I  believe  that  with  the  right  kind  of  teaching 
the  people  wilT  yield  to  the  fraternal  doctrines  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, that  mankind  is  one  great  brotherhood  !" 

"  My  Son  !  listen  to  these  words  ;  'Ye  shall  know  theni  by  their 
fruits,'  '  Do  men  gather  grapes  of  thorns,  or  figs  of  thistles  ?  *  Now 
according  to  my  observation,  the  churches  are  beds  of  doctrinal 
thorns  and  thistles,  over  which  the  naked  feet  of  the  poor  and  op- 
pressed cannot  walk,  and  from  which  we  cannot  look  for  grapes 
and  figs,  for  the  refreshment  of  individuals  or  communities." 

"  Mother,  your  assertions  are  sweeping,  and  apparently  based 
upon  the  scriptures.  But  our  present  church  is  the  blossom  of  more 
than  three  centuries,  it  has  been  watered  by  holy  martyr-blood, 
it  is  entitled  to  reverence  by  believers,  as  their  only  ark  of  trust  and 
safety." 

"  More  martyr-blood  must  fall  somewhere  !  You  and  I  agree 
that  the  negro  is  an  outcast  ;  and  I  warn  you  that  the  religion  of 
our  country  maJzcs  him  an  outcast." 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  43 

"  Yes  ;  I  acknowledge  him  an  outcast  ;  but  let  us  do  something 
for  Henry.  Can  you  not  spare  the  over  coat  that  was  father's  ? 
For  three  years  it  has  been  kept  sacred  to  his  memory." 

"Yes,  Richard  ;  it  is  wrong  to  keep  it  longer  ;  Henry  can  have 
it.  Fanny,  you  will  find  the  coat  in  the  closet,  up  stairs.  There 
are  mittens,  and  a  comforter  also  folded  in  a  piece  of  linen,  in  the 
upper  bureau  drawer." 

Henry  begged  to  refuse,  saying  he  should  not  feel  right  to  wear 

them.  ,, 

"  I  am  used  to  cold  —  some  other  one  should  wear  them. 
Mrs.    Beame    took    the    carefully   preserved   relics,    saying,    se- 
riously,— 

"  If  I  keep  them  from  you,  it  is  robbery  !  We  can  rob  our  fel- 
low creatures  as  well  by  with-holding  from  them  what  is  our  power 
to  bestow,  as  by  taking  fraudulently,  what  they  already  have.  Who 
is  better  than  you  ?  The  Lord  pleads  your  cause.  He  will  spoil 
the  souls  of  those  who  spoil  his  poor  ;  I  dare  not  keep  them  with 
your  want  before  me!  Do  not  offer  thanks,  I  am  verily  at  fault 
for  keeping  them  so  long." 

Henry  took  the  clothes  from  her  hand  without  a  word,  except  a 
humble  "  Good^morning."  In  closing  the  door,  he  heard  Richard 
calling, — 

"  Here,  driver,  take  these  boots.  They  are  too  large  for  me, 
and  heavier  than  I  need,  at  present.  Keep  up  your  heart  Trust 
in  God  for  better  days. ^^ 

Going  to  the  sleigh,  Henry  carefully  rolled  his  gifts  together, 
and  placed  them  under  the  seat ;  lest,  if  seen  through  the  befogged 
vision  of  that  bar-room,  they  might  call  forth  unjust  reflections 
upon  his  friends,  as  well  as  himself.  He  drove  back  to  the  tavern, 
and  waited  for  the  deacon. 

The  twelve  o'clock  bell  of  the  factory  rang.  The  operatives 
poured  from  its  six  stories  like  bees  from  a  hive  —  small  boys  and 
girls,  youths,  men  and  women.  The  black  horses  and  the  black 
Kenry  before  the  bar-room  door  drew  immediate  attention.  They 
swarmed  up  the  various  paths  past  the  tavern,  with  the  great  Amer 
ican  instinct,  '"  negro  hate,"  in  full  play.  Here  the  boys  found 
tlieir  native  element ;  and  like  unfledged  ducklets,  plunged  in. 
They    ruffled    their  feathers  —  they  glossed  them   down  again. 


44  WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE. 

They  huddled  and  twaddled  over  the  precious  opportunity  ;  tliey  ha, 
ha'd  !  jeered,  pointed  their  fingers,  and  waved  hats  with  rims' and 
without   rims,  till  some  one  of  the  young  mob  cried  out, — 

"  Who  painted  you  so  black  ? " 

Henry,  stung  at  last  into  a  reply,  rang  out, — 

'•  God !  you  little  heathen  !  " 

The  boy,  supposing  "  heathen  "  a  foreign  word,  uttered  a  broad 
laugh  ;  but  the  expression  of  some  older  faces  lost  the  look  of 
derision,  settling  into  something  like  shame.    Another  called  out, — 

"  Halloo  !  nigger  !     How  you  sell  rags  a  pound  ?  " 

Henry  coolly  replied, — 

''  Don't  sell  in  this  village.  Sell  my  rags  to  Bible  Societies,  to 
make  paper  to  print  the  gospel  on." 

Finally,  amidst  a  fusilade  of  "  nigger !  nigger ! "  and  a  last 
*'  Good-bye,  Thundercloud,"  they  went  to  dinner. 

A  few  words  floated  into  the  bar  room  —  but  they  were  all  right 
there.  Profanity  and  Bibles  were  as  much  mixed  there,  as  rum 
and  water. 

At  two  o'clock,  Deacon  Steele  came  to  the  door  to  go  home. 
Stepping  down,  he  lay  prostrate  upon  the  snow.  Winking  and 
blinking  in  the  bright  sun,  he  stammered  out, — 

"  What's  the  matter.  Hen  ?     Has  it  been  rainin'  and  freezin'  ?  " 

After  much  sli^Dping  and  rolling  he  gained  his  feet,  and  called 
out, — 

"  Start  along  the  horses.  Hen.  Don't  you  see  !  That  sign-post 
is  on  a  whirl !  that  painted  wolf  up  there'll  slap  their  ears  !  There, 
that's  it.     We'll  get  off  afore  she  comes  round  again  !  " 

The  horses  had  not  yet  lifted  a  hoof;  and  an  observer  would 
have  seen  a  curious  smile  lighting  up  Henry's  eyes,  as  he  extended 
his  hand  to  the  deacon,  v/ho  by  this  time  was  burying  his  head  in 
the  buffalo  robes  on  the  floor  of  the  sleigh,  with  his  boots  bal- 
ancing in  air,  as  if  he  intended  to  shake  off  the  dust  of  his  feet 
against  the  dancing  frivolities  about  him. 

Henry  respectfully  raised  the  deacon,  who  took  the  front  seat, 
bareheaded,  saying, — 

"Til  sit  with  you,  Henry.     I  want  to  talk  with  you  goin'  home." 

He  picked  up  the  deacon's  hat,  also  remarking  politely, — 

"  This  is  a  very  high  wind,  sir." 


WAITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK  JUNE.  4^ 

After  some  swaying  to  and  fro,  as  the  runners  bounded  in  and 
out  of  the  "cradle-holes,"  Deacon  Steele  said, — 

"  Put  your  arm  round  me,  Hal.  I  feel  the  weakness  of  the  flesh. 
Driv'C  slower.  It's  early  in  the  morning,  you  know  ;  we  shall  get 
home  before  eleven  o'clock, —  time  enough  to  measure  up  the  corn 
before  night." 

The  strong  arm  steadied  the  deacon's  motion,  and  he  said, — 

"Don't  forget,  Hal,  to  go  after  Fanny  Beame  next  week,  when 
our  protracted  meetin'  begins.     She's  a  purty  gal." 

"No,  sir;  and  when  I  drive  down  after  her,  can  I  have  a  bushel 
of  your  corn  to  carry  to  mill  for  my  Susan  ? " 

'•  Your  Sue .?  yes.  She's  another  purty  creetur  —  she's  trim  built. 
She  may  have  a  bushel  of  corn  at  the  market  price,  to-day. 
Speakin'  of  that  meetin',  Hal,  it's  goin'  to  be  a  solemn  time.  Sin- 
ners will  be  converted  from  the  error  of  their  ways,  and  God  will 
be  gloritied.  We  shall  have  ministers  and  prayin'  Christians  at 
our  house.  It  will  be  a  good  time  for  you,  Hal,  to  look  after  your 
soul.     You  know  your  soul  is  as  precious  as  anybody's." 

"  I  expect  it  is  of  some  account  to  its  Maker.  They  say  so ;  but 
it  takes  me  all  my  time  to  look  after  the  body — and  three  other 
bodies  waiting  upon  me.  I  never  thought  my  body  or  soul  to  be 
of  much  account,  anyway." 

"  Did  you  ever  experience  religion,  Hal  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I've  experienced  a  good  deal  of  white  people's  religion, 
one  time  or  another." 

"  Did  you  ever  have  family  prayers,  and  draw  the  blessing  of 
Heaven  in  that  way,  and  draw  down  the  holy,  sanctifying  power  of 
Divine  Grace,  to  keep  you  from  the  contaminating  influences  of  a 
depraved  world,  and —  Hold  on  to  me,  Hal  1  I'm  weak  in  the 
flesh,  and  this  runner  cuts  deep." 

"All  right,  sir.     These  horses  are  in  a  hurry  to  get  home." 

"Hold  'em  in,  Hal.  At  our  last  protracted  meetin',  we  made  a 
vow  to  talk  with  all  the  sinners  that  came  in  our  way,  on  the  salva- 
tion of  their  souls;  and  then,  at  the  next,  to  count  over  the  con- 
verts we  had  made;  and — "' 

Unfortunately,  at  this  moment,  the  sudden  check  brought  the 
whiffle- tree  to  Sultan's  heels.  With  a  fiery  bound,  he  upset  the 
equilibrium  of  the  sleigh,  and  of  the  conversation.     The   deacon 


46  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

went  flying  out  over  the  hard  crust,  like  a  rolling  plume  loosed 
from  its  fastening.  The  hat  took  another  airing.  Czar  was  nearly 
on  his  knees  —  Sultan  was  rearing  in  the  air.  Henry  could  render 
no  assistance  to  the  flying  deacon,  but  waited  for  him,  calming  the 
excited  animals.  After  much  sprawling,  the  hat  was  captured. 
With  an  equal  amount  of  ''pigeon-wings  "  and  "military  salutes," 
into  which  some  interjections  were  thrown,  not  found  in  Bible  or 
grammar,  the  good  man  reached  the  road,  and  fell  in  among  the 
robes  again. 

Moving  forward,  and  trying  to  catch  the  thread  of  his  unravelled 
discourse,  he  asked, — 

"What  subject  was  I  speakin'  on?" 

"  Family  prayers,  I  believe,  sir." 

•'  Well,  Hal,  do  you  have  family  pra3^ers  ? " 

"  No,  sir  ;  it  would  almost  be  out  of  the  question,  for  I  am 
scarcely  ever  at  home  with  my  family.  We  are  poor,  you  know, 
sir  ;  poverty  separates  us.  If  I  should  pray  at  home,  I  should  pray 
straight  against  the  laws,  and  straight  against  the  churches  and 
Christians  ;  so  it  don't  seem  to  be  of  much  use  for  white  people  to 
pray  one  way,  and  black  ones  to  pray  entirely  different." 

"God  forbid  that  an  infidel  should  find  shelter  under  my  roof. 
Hal,  you  can't  read  !  Where  did  you  lea  in  it .?  not  in  books  !  — 
Prayer  moves  Heaven,  it  besieges  the  golden  gates  !  It  brings  God 
down  to  earth,  and  takes  His  divine  will  by  storm  !  Don't  you  ever 
pray,  Hal  ?  " 

"  Yes  I  pray  generally  in  the  streets,  among  mobs.  I  prayed  to- 
day in  your  sleigh,  down  at  Alderbank." 

"  Well  ;  I  am  glad  to  hear  it.  I  trust,  through  my  efforts,  you'll 
be  converted  ;  and  you'll  become  a  star  in  my  golden  crown,  which 
I  shall  wear  upon  my  glorified  head.  Halloo !  what's  the  matter 
now  !  why  don't  you  go  ahead  .?  " 

"  We're  home  now  Sir,  and  here's  a  fine  turnout  waiting:  at  the 
gate." 

"  Yes,  yes  !  'Angels  are  strangers  unawares.'  Somebody's  got 
money  that  rides  in  that  cutter!  Such  harnesses  as  thern  ain't 
found  in  this  town  !  " 

]\lary  met  her  father  at  the  door,  placed  a  chair  for  him  and  re- 
marked, — 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  47 

"Your  rheumatics  trouble  you  again." 

"  Yes,  Mary,  some  ;  but  that  aint  all.  I'm  sort  of  stiff  from 
holding  up  Hen.  He  will  drink  at  the  tavern,  he  leaned  over  on 
me.  But  he's  a  poor  creetur  !  I've  been  talking  to  him  on  the  way 
home,  and  trying  to  have  him  get  religion,  if  he  ever  gets  into 
Heaven,  it  must  be  done  through  our  means." 

"Yes,  father,  these  long  rides  always  increase  your  rheumatics  ; 
but  guess  who  has  come  ?  " 

She  drew  him  gently  to  the  sitting-room  door.     He  replied, — 

"  Some  Grandee  ;  I  guess,  by  the  cutter  and  horses  in  the  snow 
out  there." 

The  deacon  rushed  forward  to  his  long  absent  brother,  for  so 
the  late  comer  was.  Mutual  congratulations,  the  cheering  influence 
of  warm  rooms  and  a  generous  supper  nearly  effaced  the  work  of 
the  bar-room.  They  sat  down  to  compare  memories  and  events. 
That  was  a  pleasant  room,  after  a  day  of  cold  and  drifts.  On  the 
mantel,  above  the  high  Philadelphia  stove,  two  whale-oil  glass  lamps 
burned:  The  scarlet  and  green  plaids  of  the  home-made  carpet 
glowed  fresh  as  ever.  White  curtains,  edged  with  netted  and  tasseled 
fringe,  shaded  the  windows.  Circular  mats,  braided  of  gay-col- 
ored woolens  were  spread  before  the  stove  and  entrances,  wooden 
chairs,  shining  black,  without  a  mote  of  dust,  kept  their  proper 
places  around  the  walls,  with  a  polished  cherry  table,  covered 
with  "  driven  white "  linen,  fringed  also  with  tasselled  netting, 
the  accomplishment  of  those  days,  into  which  meshes,  rosy  farmer 
girls  netted  their  youthful  loves  and  hopes.  A  gilt  framed  looking- 
glass  overhung  the  table,  upon  which  solemnly  reposed  "  Scott's 
Commentaries,"  "  Baxter's  Saint's  Rest,"  "John  Calvin,"  "  Watts' 
Psalms  and  Hymns,"  the  Assembly's  Catechism,"  and  "  Missionary 
Herald  ;  "  like  grim  monks  of  old,  keeping  guard  over  the  spiritual 
interests  of  the  household. 

Two  plain  wooden  arm-chairs,  cushioned  and  frilled  with  gay- 
colored  chintz  were  drawn  to  the  stove  by  the  brothers.  Distance 
from  the  stores  had  delayed  culinary  preparations  for  revival  week ; 
and  the  father  had  brought  home  various  elements  of  that  art. 
Therefore  Mrs.  Steele,  with  her  two  daughters,  Mary  and  Dorcas, 
remained  in  the  kitchen  to  further  the  baking. 

This  kitchen  joined  the  sitting-room.     The  door  betw-een  them 


48  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

was  left  partially  open,  that  the  social  current  might  not  be  broken, 
and  a  tacit  regard  for  their  guest  might  be  expressed.  The  tidy, 
neat  floor,  painted  brown,  and  doited  with  mats ;  the  papered 
walls;  the  '"dresser,"  with  rows  of  shining  tins  and  quaint  pieces 
of  crockery ;  the  hot  stove  rubbed  to  a  gloss,  and  roaring  up  its 
pipe  with  a  fierce  business  air ;  the  old  clock  in  the  corner,  like  an 
embalmed  Pilgrim  of  the  Mayflower;  the  spotted  yellow  and  white 
hound.  Foxy,  sleeping  on  the  hearth;  and  the  box  piled  high  with 
wood  made  a  cosy  cooking-room  at  all  times.  The  chatting  of  the 
busy  women  over  flour,  butter,  yeast,  apples  and  spices  ;  the  clatter 
of  plates,  measures  and  mortars  precluded  the  possibility  of  their 
hearing  conversation  in  the  adjoining  room. 

The  deacon  and  his  brother  had  the  evening  to  themselves. 
Henry's  chores  were  faithfully  done.  Czar  and  Sultan  under  warm 
blankets,  stood  knee  deep  in  fresh  straw,  pulling  wisps  of  hay 
from  the  rack.  The  oxen  chewed  their  cuds  safe  in  the  stanchions. 
Every  barn  and  shed-door  firmly  closed,  the  lantern  was  deposited 
in  the  usual  place.  Henry  sat  by  himself,  unnoticed  in  the  shadow 
of  the  angle  formed  by  the  half  open  door  and  the  wall  against 
which  his  chair  leaned.  He  sat  silent  and  thinking, —  thinking. 
No  one  questioned  his  thoughts  —  they  were  of  no  consequence. 
If  would  have  been  an  insane  act  to  go  out  to  the  barn  and  look 
in  the  calm  eyes  of  the  oxen  for  troubled  thoughts,  with  the  inten- 
tion of  uttering  a  soothing  word,  even  if  that  day's  work  had  marked 
their  patient  sides  with  the  cruel  goad.  No  well  balanced  Chris- 
tian in  Cloudspire  would  belie  his  God-like  image  in  that  manner. 

So  here  was  black  Henry  in  his  stall.  To  look  in  his  eyes  by  can- 
dle-light, or  any  other  light  for  the  purpose  of  reading  that  day's  cruel 
humiliation,  would  be  the  height  of  folly.  A  creature  almost  born 
in  Africa  —  a  lineal  descendant  from  Ham's  accursed  race.  It 
was  suincient  that  he  had  his  supper,  standing  at  one  end  of  the 
sink, —  that  his  pewter  plate  was  garnished  with  fried  salt  porl:, 
Irish  potatoes,  and  rye  bread.  The  first  table  had  been  loaded 
with  savory  viands,  chicken,  roast  beef,  mince  pie,  raised  cake, 
cranbeny,  and  other  preserves.  But  these  were  considered  neces- 
sary only  to  the  fine,  delicate  fibre  of  Saxon  brain.  The  "  Com- 
mentaries," "  Saint's  Rest,"  and  other  products  of  that  organ  on 
the  cherry  table  in  the  sitting-room,  were  probably  written  under  the 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  49 

divine  inflatus  of  such  ethereal  stimuli.  So  Henry  and  Foxy  were 
both  benignly  allowed  to  be  comfortable  by  the  roaring  stove,  on 
this  frosty  winter  night. 

The  two  gentlemen  in  the  sitting-room  were  now  ready  for  con- 
versation. William  Steele,  the  deacon's  youngest  brother,  left  the 
blue  hills  of  his  native  State,  Massachusetts,  five  years  before,  and 
wandered  to  the  rice  fields  of  South  Carolina.  Both  had  been 
raised  "strictly  "  in  the  faith  of  their  fathers.  William  left  college 
midway  between  the  Freshman  and  Graduate,  to  seek  means^  for 
prosecuting  a  course  of  theological  study  at  Andover.  He  desired 
to  become^one  of  that  body  of  New  England  clergy,  whose  watch- 
fulness, like  the  great  Chinese  Wall,  surrounded  the  land  of  the 
Puritans,  and  guarded  its  time-honored  tenets  from  heretical  in- 
roads. Standing  with  one  foot  on  Plymouth  Rock,  and  the  other 
upon  the  vanities  of  earth,  he  was  to  have  become,  at  once,  a  burn- 
ing light  in  her  midst,  and  an  honor  to  his  ancestral  record. 

Hvifliam  Steele  was  a  model  of  political  consistency.  Next  to  the 
Bible,  he  held  the  Federal  Constitution.  To  both  of  them  his  faith 
and  fancy  clung  with  the  tenacity  of  a  bat  among  the  stone-work  of 
ancient  feudal  edifices.  The  double  constructions  and  enigmatical 
passages  of  both  were  to  him  only  so  many  dusty  corners  and  dark 
corridors,  in  which  he  might  remain  safely  ensconced  in  case  of 
assault  from  the  modern  bowmen,  whose  arrows  were  beginning  to 
throw  confusion  among  creeds  and  precedents.  He  found  Slavery 
in  the  Bible  and  the  Constitution,  and  the  rubber  wings  of  his  soul 
never  bore  him  more  gracefully  than  when  he  fluttered  through 
either,  in  defense  of  this  great  national  right. 

In  his  view,  it  made  no  difference  whether  he  stood  a  granite  pil- 
lar of  the  church,  defying  the  blasts  and  ice  of  New  England,  or 
whether  he  became  a  Corinthian  shaft  entwined  with  jasmine  and 
roses,  supporting  the  Constitution  in  the  balmy  airs  of  the  South.  ^ 

Thus,  after  a  short  residence  in  Carolina,  he  stepped  upon  his 
pedestal  of  '-State  Rights,"  and  resolved  that  henceforth  the 
great  work  of  his  life  should  be  in  defence  of  the  American  Eagle 
and  the  Federal  Constitution.  He  exchanged  his  prospect  ot  a 
pastorate,  with  confessed  loyalty  to  God  and  man.  He  laid  aside 
the  clerical  robes  of  black,  and  assumed  the  light  summer  suit 
and  broad-brimmed  straw  of  the  plantation  overseer,  with  an  equal 


$0  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

obligation  to  principle.  He  put  aside  the  sacramental  symbols, 
and  in  their  stead,  took  up  the  thumb-screws  and  driver's  whip 
with  a  conscience  void  of  offence.  He  believed  himself  still  in  the 
field,  upholding  an  identically  righteous  cause. 

"Well,  now,  what  brought  you  North  in  February,  William?" 
questioned  the  deacon. 

"  I  have  just  finished  the  last  year's  crop  ;  sent  away  the  last 
tierces  of  rice." 

"  Why  not  have  left  before  the  year's  work  was  finished  ?  We 
Northerners  never  wait  till  all  our  produce  is  sold,  before  making 
a  journey." 

"  Of  course  ;  but  we  carry  on  planting  interests  in  a  different 
manner.  The  small  farmer  can  recall  at  any  moment  from  mem- 
ory the  number  of  his  bushels  of  corn,  rye  and  potatoes.  He  can 
go  down  cellar  and  count  the  barrels  of  apples  ;  can  keep  on  a  slip 
of  paper  in  his  pocket  book  all  the  wages  for  hired  help.  Our 
landholders  in  Carolina  are  rich.  Their  field  hands  are  counted 
by  fifdes  and  hundreds.  One  plantation  may  extend  over  from 
one  thousand  to  five  thousand  acres.  Let's  see,  how  many  acres  in 
your  farm } " 

With  a  touch  of  injured  pride  the  deacon  replied, — 

"You  used  to  know  every  foot  of  it — one  hundred  and  eighty 
acres." 

"Yes;  that  is  considered  a  'right  smart  chance'  up  here,  with  a 
fourth  of  it  hill  pasture,  one  half  bowlders  and  pulverized  rocks,  and 
about  one-tenth  rolled  out  into  grass  meadows.  There,  one  planter 
has  from  three  to  five  plantations,  with  a  residence  in  the  city,  and 
any  amount  of  stocks  and  bonds." 

"  How  many  plantations  has  Mr.  Fairland?" 

"He  has  five  —  two  rice,  and  three  upland  cotton,  'mostly.'  '* 

"  Do  you  oversee  all  these  farms  ? " 

"  Bless  you  !  no.  I  am  manager  for  the  two  rice  plantations, — 
am  sole  overseer  to  the  one  named  '  Le  Grand  Palais,'  with  two 
hundred  and  fifty  acres  rice  land.  The  other,  called  the  '  Nile,' 
has  a  low-bred  cracker  overseer.  The  other  three  cotton  places. 
*  Staple,'  '  Success,'  and  '  Snowfield,'  are  under  two  crackers,  and  a 
splendid  fellow  from  Connecticut." 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  5 1 

"  On  which  one  does  Mr.  Fairland  reside  ? " 

"  His  winter  residence  is  '  Le  Grand  Palais.'  In  summer,  stays 
in  town,  or  at  watering-places  when  in  this  country.  But,  as  I 
wrote  you,  he  is  still  in  Europe  —  has  been  there  some  four  years 
with  his  family." 

"It  must  take  a  good  income  to  go  these  rounds  :  better  than  we 
farmers  get,  up  here.  But  I  should  suppose  all  his  business  w^ould 
go  at  loose  ends  while  he  is  across  the  water.  You  must  have 
things  pretty  much  your  own  way." 

"\Vell,  not  precisely;  they  know  the  average  yield  of  the  places. 
But,  better  still,  they  know  their  annual  net  mcomes  to  be  expended 
i-n  luxury  and  travel.  They  have  no  more  care  of  their  own  ac- 
counts than  children.  All  business  transactions  are  performed  by 
factors  or  agents,  in  Charleston,  The  crops  of  rice  and  bales  of 
cotton  are  sent  to  these  factors  who  dispose  of  them  at  their  dis- 
cretion. The  planter  WTites  his  demands  for  so  much  of  his  funds 
as  he  chooses  ;  the  factor  remits  it,  informing  him  from  time  to 
time  how  much  he  has  remaining  for  the  current  year.  Frequently 
the  factor  will  make  advances  upon  the  strength  of  the  prospect- 
ive crop,  if  accounts  from  the  agents  or  overseers  are  favorable. 
Most  of  our  Southerners  live  like  princes  —  royal  in  their  tastes 
and  pursuits,  and  generous  in  hospitality." 

"Well,  William,  I  hope  our  small  farms,  small  houses,  and  plain 
living  w^on't  drive  you  back  too  soon.  I  suppose  you  take  charge 
of  the  Fairland  mansion,  and  live  like  a  prince,  too.  By  and  by 
you  will  be  marrying  one  of  Fairland's  daughters." 

"  Don't  think  so.  I  prefer  a  pure-hearted  Northern  girl.  To 
confess  the  truth,  I  am  here  on  just  that  errand  —  to  marry  in  this 
very  town.  Have  but  a  short  time  to  stay,  and  must  take  my  prize 
back  with  me.     What  success,  in  your  judgment?  " 

"  Success  !  why,  the  trouble  will  be  that  you  will  scarcely  get 
av/ay  with  but  07ie.  You  will  be  beseiged.  Your  name  stands  high 
in  the  church  since  the  present  ot  the  costly  Bible  and  the  '  silver 
font.'  Everybody,  that  is,  all  the  members  inquire  after  you,  and 
pray  for  you,  since  that.  And  I  tell  you,  William  Steele,"  (and 
here  the  deacon  warmed,  as  his  palm  came  dov/n  on  his  brother's 
shoulder),  "  we  have  girls  in  this  town  as  pretty  and  as  trim-built 


$2  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

as  ever  sat  in  a  pew.  When  you  look  at  their  cheeks  you'll  forget 
that  it's  winter  and  think  it's  cherry  time." 

William  stroked  his  beard  in  a  satisfied  abstraction,  and  with  a 
half  smile  he  said, — 

"  So  my  gift  to  the  church  was  acceptable  ?  " 

"It  is  the  envy  of  neighboring  churches ;  but  I  was  thinking  you 
should  keep  your  salaiy  a  little  closer.  That  solid  silver  basin 
must  have  made  your  pocket  light.  You'll  want  your  own  planta- 
tion, with  the  slaves  to  work  it.  A  penny  saved  is  as  good  as  a 
penny  earned.     What  did  you  pay  for  the  font  and  the  Bible  ?  " 

"  Really  they  cost  me  nothing.  It  was  a  side  speculation."  Here 
he  arose,  ran  his  fingers  through  his  hair,  buried  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  and  walked  the  floor,  yawning  either  evasively  or  conse- 
quentially, one  could  scarcely  tell  which.  He  came  back  to  his 
chair,  and  leaned  towards  his  brother  confidentiallv.  *' I  had  a 
salable  article  on  my  hands,  and  a  rare  opportunity  to  dispose  of 
it,  which  I  did.  Out  of  respect  to  my  good  fortune,  I  resolved  to 
fulfill  a  duty  to  the  church  of  my  early  vows  —  to  lay  on  its  altar  a 
thank-offering  for  the  great  blessings  and  success  of  my  life." 

"  How  was  that  ?  Let  me  share  the  joy  of  your  prosperity. 
That  South  is  a  far-o5  country;  let  me  know  something  of  it." 

"  Let  all  I  say,  then,  remain  between  us  as  men.  Women  can't 
understand  bearings  beyond  their  sphere.  What  I  sold  was  not 
purloinings  of  rice  and  cotton.  I  detest  such  meanness.  That 
plain  and  pointed  lesson  of  boyhood's  days,  '  Thou  shalt  not  steal,' 
taught  in  our  Sabbath  school,  is  indelibly  impressed  upon  my  moral 
nature.     I  disposed  of  what  was  my  own  by  right,  not  another's. 

"  About  six  months  after  my  arrival  at  *  Le  Grand  Palais,'  Mr. 
Fairland's  factor  sent  up  five  slaves  per  order.  Messrs.  Kershaw  & 
Lewis  purchased  them  from  the  auction  sales  at  Charleston.  One 
of  them,  an  octaroon  girl  of  tall  and  elegant  figure,  was  in  bad 
health  —  what  we  term  'unsound.'  She  seemed  dejected  and 
broken-spirited.  j\Ir.  Fairland  favored  Isabel  by  taking  her  into 
the  'Great  House,'  as  lady's  maid  for  his  wife.  But  Isabel  kept 
her  look  of  abstraction,  and  grew  daily  less  active.  Her  mistress 
drove  her  from  the  house,  ordering  her  to  the  field. 

"The  next  day,  when  the  driver's  horn  rang  along  the  quarters, 
the  octaroon  went  down  to  the  rice  swamp  with  the  gang.     The 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  53 

morning  was  hot.  She  was  not  used  to  the  hoe,  any  more  than  one 
of  Fairland's  daughters,  and  lagged  behind  the  others.  The  driver 
drew  his  whip  across  her  shoulders,  the  blood  reddened  her  dress, 
and  she  fell  fainting.  I  was  riding  along  the  banks  at  the  time, 
and  ordered  her  brought  out  and  laid  under  a  live-oak.  During 
the  day  I  had  an  interview  with  the  master,  relating  the  circum- 
stances, and  advising  that  she  would  be  a.  dead  loss  to  him  if  kept 
in  the  field;  that  to  put  her  in  the  hospital  as  nurse,  to  take  care 
of  the  little 'pickaninnies,' would  be  to  his  pecuniary  advantage. 
The  nursery  was  down  by  the  quarters,  and  he  consented.  She 
went  into  a  fever,  and  for  six  weeks  was  no  better  than  dead.  The 
physician  raised  her  at  last. 

''  Not  many  weeks  after,  the  master  and  mistress  left  for  Europe. 
Of  course,  the  authority  was  in  my  hand.  I  ordered  Isabel  to 
come  to  my  house  to  cook  for  me.  I  took  some  pains  to  wean  her 
from  melancholy,  assuring  her  I  stood  her  defense  from  the  lash  in 
the  future.  I  even  carried  her  flowers  in  my  own  hand  —  placed 
them  in  her  raven  hair.  Good  heavens  !  she  was  lovely !  I  gave 
her  the  same  food  as  she  cooked  for  me ;  and  that  was  cooking. 
If  she  looked  at  fiour,  butter  and  eggs,  they  were  transformed  into 
the  most  delightful  compounds.  I  gave  up  bacon  and  hominy, 
and  made  old  2^Iauma  'Rue,'  my  former  cook,  fowl-minder." 

Here  William  Steele  forgot  himself  —  forgot  the  half-open  door 
and  the  inmates  of  the  spicy  kitchen.  Unobservant  of  his  sur- 
roundings, he  was  lost  in  the  sweetest  memories  of  his  life.  In 
imagination  he  was  novv^  overseer  at  '*  Grand  Palais."  He  was  sit- 
ting in  his  own  room  ;  tangled  skeins  of  gray  moss  festooned  the 
windows  and  doors;  sprays  of  English  iv-y  shaded  the  mirror;  jas- 
mines and  roses  scattered  perfumes ;  two  plates,  with  two  china 
cups  and  saucers  on  the  white  cloth,  awaited  his  tea-hour  ;  Isabel, 
silent  and  martyr-like,  slowly  glided  in  and  out. 

Wrapped  in  the  delicious  dream  he  proceeded,  forgetfully  raising 
his  voice  to  its  natural  tones. 

"Her  health  never  became  sound.  In  the  course  of  time  she 
became  a  mother.  I  gave  her  my  bed  to  make  her  more  comfort- 
able, and  for  two  months  it  was  her  resting-place.  Then  she  died. 
I  sat  by  her  in  her  last  moments^  and   held   her  thin  hands  in 


mme.' 


54  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"What  killed  her?  What  was  the  trouble?"  bluntly  asked  the 
deacon. 

"During  the  two  months'  sickness,  I  drew  from  her  these  facts. 
She  was  brought  from  Savannah.  Her  father  was  a  French  Con- 
sul, her  mother  a  quadroon,  the  slave  of  the  Governor  of  Georgia. 
A  young  blood  named  Dentelle,  son  of  a  planter,  bought  Isabel 
when  about  sixteen,  set  up  for  himself  an  establishment  in  that 
city,  made  her  the  partner  of  his  bed  and  board,  surrounded  her 
with  elegance,  and  lavished  upon  her  the  luxuries  which  Southern- 
ers so  freely  dispense.  He  clothed  her  in  silks  and  laces,  equal  to 
those  which  adorned  the  ladies  of  his  father's  household.  He  wore 
a  curl  of  her  hair  in  a  locket  hidden  about  his  neck.  He  called 
her  his  Sultana.  Isabel  adored  him.  If  Dentelle  made  jaunts  to 
Louisiana  or  the  North,  he  wrote  her  the  tenderest  of  letters. 
Thus  her  slave  life  floated  by  for  some  years.  She  had  borne  him 
three  children.  He  brought  her  to  Charleston  as  he  had  fre- 
quently done  before,  and  went  North. 

"  Two  or  three  days  after  he  left  a  guard  took  her  to  one  of  the 
slave  marts,  where  she  was  sold  on  the  block  to  IMr.  Fairland's 
factor  for  our  plantation.  She  wept,  and  begged  for  her  children 
incessantly,  till  the  annoyance  became  intolerable.  Then  they  told 
her  the  children  were  sold  to  Mississippi. 

"  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  Isabel  died.  I  had  her  well  buried  in  a 
black  coffin,  under  the  magnolias  by  the  river.  I  gave  the  child, 
named  Lillian  by  her  mother,  to  Mauma  Rue  to  raise  till  I  saw 
further.  I  concluded  to  sell  her.  She  was  Fairland's  by  law,  but 
she  was  mine  by  parentage.  She  was  highly  marketable,  and 
would  sell  for  a  good  price.  Her  curls  were  flaxen,  and  her  eyes 
deep  blue.  The  only  stain  upon  her  waxen  skin  was  a  mark  on 
her  back  and  shoulders,  like  small  streams  of  trickling  blood, 
dripping  into  heavy  red  drops.  Isabel  said  it  was  a  complete  copy 
of  the  blood  on  her  own  back,  after  that  cut  in  the  field.  Lillian 
would  take  the  fancy  of  many  a  Southern  gentleman  oE  leisure  with 
a  full  purse. 

"When  the  child  was  old  enough  to  run  about  laughing  and  chat- 
ting, a  trader  came  through  on  his  way  to  New  Orleans,  making  up 
his  gang  as  he  went.  He  camped  in  the  pines  three  miles  away. 
I  jumped  on  my  horse  and  rode  over.     The  gang  was  chained  to- 


WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK   JUNE.  55 

<Tether,  and  the  covered  baggage  wagons  ready  to  leave  the  next 
morning.  I  called  the  trader  one  side,  and  bargained  for  the 
child.  I  wanted  just  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollras  for  the 
old  church  here,  and  I  took  that  amount,  although  much  lower  than 
her  value.  He  agreed  to  meet  me  half  way  at  midnight,  and  take 
her  to  the  wagons.  As  she  had  slept  with  me  for  three  months,  1 
could  easily  take  her  to  him  myself.  The  night  was  dark.  It  was 
dropping  rain,  and  no  discovery  could  be  made.  The  next  morn- 
ing I  gave  out  word  that  Lillian  was  stolen  by  the  slave  trader, 
which  was  entirely  satisfactory  to  Mauma  Rue,  as  that  was  the 
habit  of  the  traders." 

"What  did  you-  pay  for  the  Bible  and  the  font?"  asked  his 
brother. 

"  The  pastor  of  Antioch  church  was  going  down  to  Charleston, 
and  I  commissioned  him  to  purchase.  He  paid  one  hundred  dol- 
lars for  the  font.  It  was  broughi;  from  London  for  a  special  use, 
but  for  some  reason  was  not  taken.  As  he  was  to  pass  through 
New  Yoik  on  his  way  to  Mapleton  in  this  State,  he  bought  the 
Bible  at  thirty  dollars,  and  I  spent  the  remaining  twenty  for  Sun- 
day school  books  for  your  church." 

"  Well  ! "  said  the  deacon,  "  quite  interesting  ;  you  must  be 
thirsty  ;"  calling  Mary  at  the  same  time  to  bring  in  apples,  hickory 
nuts  and  cider,  adding,  "you  have  come  at  the  right  time,  Wil- 
liam—  protracted  meeting  will  give  you   a  good   look  at  all   the 

girls." 

Henry  was  aroused  from  apparent  sleep,  in  which  his  head  had 
been  thrown  back  against  the  hinge-opening  of  the  door.  He 
cracked  the  nuts,  drew  the  cider,  and  withdrew  to  his  garret  over 
the  woodshed.  The  bit  of  candle  was  extinguished  in  the  open 
blast  before  reaching  the  stairway.  Entering  the  low  room  in 
darkness,  he  rushed  against  one  of  the  rafters,  and  finally  threw 
himself  on  the  bed.     A  tempest  raged  within  his  breast. 

"  Bought  and  sold  !  Chains  and  manacles  for  us  everywhere, 
either  of  iron  or  custom  !  Wronged,  mocked  and  spit  upon !  Who 
was  Ham  ?  What  did  he  do  to  curse  his  race  through  everlasting 
ages  ? " 

He  hated  every  white  face  North  and  South,  and  continued  to 
soliloquize, — 


56  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE. 

"An  overseer  takes  the  price  of  his  own  little  blue-eyed  daugh- 
ter, and  purchases  a  basin  with  it  for  the  baptism  of  other  children, 
*in  the  name  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost.'  The  church 
Imnts  7Jie  down  —  I  will  not  pray  those  wretched  prayers." 

He  came  nigh  to  cursing.  By  accident  his  hand  brushed  the 
bundle  of  clothing  given  him  that  day.  Richard  Beame  seemed  to 
call  him  again,  and  say,  "  Keep  up  your  heart.  If  you  cannot 
trust  in  men,  trust  in  God  for  better  days."  Then  Fanny's  mit- 
tened  hand  seemed  reaching  to  him,  as  at  the  sleigh  the  other  day, 
her  face 

"  of  innocence  and  of  prayer, 
And  of  love  and  faith  that  never  fails ; 
Such  as  the  fresh  young  heart  exhales 
Before  it  begins  to  wither  and  to  harden," 

He  slid  down  upon  his  knees,  the  heart  more  than  the  lips 
asked  that  if  indeed  he  was  made  in  the  image  of  God,  it  might 
not  be  blotted  out ;  that  he  might  trust  as  Richard  had  said;  and 
that  he  might  leave  the  wrongs  of  his  race  to  a  wiser  keeping. 

*'  God  listening  must  have  overheard 

The  prayers,  thus  without  sound  or  word. 
Our  hearts  in  secresy,  have  said," 

Sunday  came  and  went.  The  gospel  was  preached  ;  besides, 
some  other  very  pleasant  tidings  were  disseminated.  That  Sab- 
bath sun  went  down  convoyed  by  the  rosiest  of  clouds.  A  rosy 
light  filled  the  town.  William  Steele,  the  handsome,  rich  South- 
erner, had  arrived.  He  was  at  church,  and  between  morning  and 
evening  services  Mary  and  Dorcas  moved  about  like  May  queens 
with  royal  suites,  whispering  to  all  that  he  had  come  to  select  a 
bride. 

Sunday  evenings,  to  the  young  men  and  maidens,  was  the  one 
glory  of  the  whole  week.     It  was  the  time  of 

**  Brilliant  hopes  all  woven  in  gorgeous  tissues, 
Flaunting  gayly  in  the  golden  light; 
Large  desires  with  more  uncertain  issues, 
Tender  wishes  blossoming  at  night." 

Bearded  and  beardless  aspirants  for  connubial  honors  combed 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  57 

the  manes  of  the  horses,  put  on  the  new  harnesses,  arranging  with 
their  own  hands  the  gay  rosettes  at  the  ears.  They  spread  buffaloes 
over  the  backs  of  the  sleighs,  tastefully  arranging  the  scarlet  In- 
dian borders.  They  fastened  the  strings  of  noisy  bells  and  sped 
away,  listening  to  their  pleasant  tintinnabulations. 

Nothing  in  Nature  appeared  unusual.  The  Sunday  evening 
moon  shed  silver  rays  ;  Sunday  evening  stars  shone  calm  and  holy  ; 
Sunday  evening  parlors,  warmed  and  bright,  conservatories  of  all 
blooming  graces,  appeared  to  be  w^aiting  for  their  evening  bells. 
From  one  end  of  the  town  to  the  other,  glistening  runner  tracks 
shot  across  each  other,  weaving  the  gossamer  web  of  hope  and 
trust.  Rosy  girls  received  their  expectant  lovers  at  the  doors  as 
usual ;  but  within,  a  sort  of  subtle,  indefinable  change  chilled  the 
evening  enjoyment.  Hopes  seemed  poised  on  uncertain  wings, 
torturing  the  precious  hours.  Allusions  to  the  protracted  meeting 
were  frequent, — the  annoying  coolness  might  be  attributed  to  that. 
So  thought  the  young  farmers  who  found  this  evening  differing 
widely  from  its  predecessors  ;  never  dreaming  that  the  magician 
who  had  poured  gall  into  their  cups  of  nectar,  was  a  Southern 
slave-driver  in  search  of  a  bride.  Witches  were  evidently  in  the 
air — the  elfish  creatures  w^ere  covertly  distiUing  wormwood  dur- 
ing their  frantic  moonlight  revels. 

Fanny  Beame  read  her  Bible  that  Sunday  morning  in  the  room 
with  Richard  and  her  mother.  Thoughts  occupied  her  mind  of 
those  who  could  not  I'ead  its  pages  —  of  those  who  bowed  to  idols 
in  distant  lands.  A  strong  desire  to  become  one  of  that  "self- 
denying  band  "  who  wander 

"  to  the  farthest  verge 
Of  the  green  earth,  to  distant  barbarous  climes," 

as  messengers  of  mercy,  was  daily  gaining  strength.  This  wish 
was  expressed  to  her  brother,  and  also  the  troublesome  doubts 
of  her  ability  to  reach  the  coveted  goal  of  missionary  labor. 

Richard  soothingly  replied,  that  if  India  or  Birmah  were  to  be 
the  scene  of  her  future  labors,  and  if  the  offering  of  herself  should 
prove  acceptable  to  Him  who  guides  us  all,  He  would  open  a  path 
for  her  feet  in  due  time.  Fanny's  troubled  look  wandered  over  the 
waste  of  snow.     She  seemed  only  to  behold  Juggernaut  crushing 


58  WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE. 

hapless  victims,  and  pagodas  filled  with  heathen  gods.  Mrs. 
Beame  canght  the  expression  of  commiseration,  and  said, — 

"  Banish  this  idea  from  your  thoughts.  There  are  heathen 
enough  in  our  own  country  —  heathen  at  our  very  doors." 

Richard  replied  for  his  sister. — 

"We  are  commanded  to  'preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature  ;* 
and  I  must  say,  dear  mother,  that  the  wants  of  heathen  lands  have 
seriously  impressed  my  own  mind." 

"Well,  my  son,  learn  first  all  that  the  schools  teach  of  the  mys- 
teries of  God  and  man  ;  then  let  me  hear  if  your  sermons  show  how 
to  follow  Christ  on  earth.  If  so,  then  your  services  will  be  required 
in  your  own  land,  as  much  as  in  Asia.  India  has  one  Juggernaut  — 
America  has  man}'.  There  is  the  old  tavern  at  the  corner.  One 
stands  on  the  river  bank  turned  by  a  water-wheel.  Another  rolls 
its  bloody  wheels,  dripping  with  human  gore,  through  the  Slave 
States ;  and  the  Hindoo  Shastra  with  its  atrocious  American  cruel- 
ties is  deduced  from  our  Bible,  and  incorporated  in  our  Constitu- 
tion." 

"Ah,  mother!  if  I  study  theology  with  you  I  shall  be  hung  be- 
fore your  eyes  for  my  pains.  After  taking  the  course  at  Andover, 
I  shall  be  able  to  handle  the  proper  tools  for  the  pulling  down  of 
these  strongholds." 

"Time  will  show,  Richard;"  then,  turning  to  Fanny,  she  pro- 
posed that  her  missionary  labors  commence  immediately,  as  Susan, 
Henry's  wife,  was  to  all  intents  and  purposes  in  a  heathen  condi- 
tion.    She  should  visit  her  with  a  basket  of  comforts. 

The  Scotch  plaid  pelisse  and  the  blue  silk  hood  were  in  imme- 
diate requisition.  Carrying  a  basket  well  filled,  containing  also  her 
little  Polyglot  Bible,  Fanny  was  soon  on  the  way.  Gilded  pagodas 
took  the  form  of  rough  slab  cabins,  and  the  Ganges  lay  a  frozen, 
harmless  river  along  her  path.  Cocoa-nuts  and  palms  turned  to 
shivering  oaks  with  clusters  of  dried  leaves,  rustling  in  the  breeze. 
Down  in  the  valley,  rising  the  brow  of  a  hill,  hidden  by  hemlocks, 
out  in  the  glade,  listening  to  the  crunching  snow,  and  fondling  the 
shaggy  head  of  Winter,  her  Newfoundland,  she  was  soon  at  Susan's 
door.  The  small  dwelling  was  on  the  south  side  of  a  hill,  a  few 
rods  from  the  river.  It  seemed  to  have  sprung  up  in  the  forest, 
like  a  toad-stool  at  the  foot  of  tall,  naked  trees.     Craggy  branches 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  59 


overhead  rattled  against  and  interlocked  with  each  other  in  the 
fierce  winds,  like  huge  antlers  of  contesting  stags.  The  cove 
spread  out  before  it  in  a  broad,  glassy  sheet  of  ice  ;  and  regardless 
of  holy  time,  the  lithe,  swaying  skaters  were  upon  it. 

Fanny  knocked  at  the  rude  door,  and  received  a  most  affection- 
ate welcome.  Susan  gave  her  the  best  chair ;  looked  at  her  feet, 
if  perchance  they  might  be  wet;  drew  off  the  bootees  and  placed 
them  to  dry.  The  children  leaned  on  her  lap,  and  looked  up  joy- 
ously in  her  face. 

"  How  nice  you  look  here,  Susan,"  said  Fanny, 

"  I'm  glad  you  think  so  ;  I  try  to  do  my  best." 

"  So  you  do,  Susan.  Mother  sent  you  something  in  the  basket. 
Let  us  see  what." 

Susan  sat  down  by  her.     Fanny  took  out  the  articles. 

"I  can  never  repay  your  mother  for  her  remembrance  of  me," 
said  Susan.  "Here's  clothes  for  the  children  and  me.  See,  my 
feet  are  out,  and  here's  new  bootees,  and  food  besides;  just  what 
I  needed." 

"  My  mother  does  all  with  a  free  will,  and  she  bade  me  ask  if 
you  have  bed  covering  enough  for  these  cold  nights." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  have  it  to  say  that  we  need  more ;  but  I  can't 
ask  it  of  Mrs.  Beame." 

"Why  not,  Susie.?  I  will  bring  it.  Your  arms  are  always  full 
of  washings,  both  ways,  when  you  go  to  the  village." 

Willie  chimed  in,  "  I  s'eep  told,  Mish  Fanny." 

She  caught  him  up  on  her  knees,  gave  him  a  frolicsome  toss, 
and  bade  him  say  his  verse. 

"  Supper  lily  chilen  come  me,"  he  Hsped,  laughing  gayly. 

"  Say  the  rest;"  and  she  gave  him  a  kiss.     "For  of  such," 

"  Such  kinnum  Heben ; "  and  then,  with  a  loud,  triumphant 
laugh,  he  threw  his  arms  about  her  neck. 

Susan   begged  her  visitor  to  take  supper  with  her,  saying  mer- 

"  I'll  give  you  some  of  my  rye  bread,  and  some  ham  left  from  that 
you  brought  me  before,  with  a  few  eggs  from  my  fowls.  I  will  finish 
with  tea  and  brown  sugar.  Will  that  do  ?  I  can  get  it  ready  while 
you  teach  the  children.  Say  yes,  Fanny,  it  will  give  me  so  much 
pleasure." 


6o  WHTIE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"Yes  Susan  !  it  will  give  me  pleasure  also  —  only,  I  cannot  think 
it  right  to  diminish  your  scanty  store." 

Addie  brought  her  book,  read  her  lesson  in  one  syllable,  and 
said  her  verses.  Fanny  read  over  the  next  lesson  to  her  litile  pupil, 
and  heard  Willie's  A,  B,  Shee's.  Tea  was  ready  !  Susie  had 
three  earthern  plates,  one  whole  cup  and  saucer  for  her  guest,  and 
a  broken  one  for  herself.  There  were  two  knives,  one  wiihout  a 
handle,  and  one  fork  —  but  every  thing  had  a  wholesome  neatness 
about  it.  The  bit  of  plain  home-spun  table  cloth  was  white  as  frost 
and  rain  could  make  it.  Susie  served  the  plates  from  the  bright  old 
sauce-pan  on  the  stove,  which  in  its  turn  was  cracked  in  various 
directions.  The  rye  bread  was  excellent :  a  small  bovv'l  of  apple- 
sauce, made  from  a  pocket-full  of  apples  that  Henry  brought  home, 
served  for  dessert. 

The  children  ate  contentedlv  their  mush  and  molasses,  placed  on 
wooden  trenchers,  each  having  a  piece  of  ham  of  the  size  of  a  dol- 
lar, for  a  relish,  and  an  occasional  sip  of  tea  from  Fanny's  prof- 
fered cup. 

Winter  ate  a  dry  crust  with  evident  enjovment,  and  with  much 
wagging  of  his  plumy  tail  —  although  he  would  have  sniffed  his  nose 
disdainfully  at  so  humble  an  entertainment  at  home. 

Fanny  brought  out  the  little  Bible,  saying,"  Nov/  Susie,  shall  I 
read  ?" 

"Yes,  I  believe  the  Bible  when  you  read.  It  seems  like  a  bit  of 
Heaven  come  in  at  my  door,  just  as  the  sunlight  comes  in  on  sum- 
mer days.  " 

"But  Susie,"  replied  Fanny,  looking  serious,  "You  know  the  Bible 
is  the  word  of  God,  whoever  reads  it.  " 

"I  don't  think  so.  I  heard  it  once  in  Cloudspire  meeting-house, 
and  it  appeared  as  if  God  and  man  both  mocked  at  my  color.  I 
came  home  worse  than  I  went.  When  I  go  to  wash  and  iron  at 
these  church  people's  houses,  they  call  me  to  hear  the  Bible,  and 
prayers,  and  then  pay  me  in  old  things  worn  threadbare  ;  as  if 
Bibles  and  prayers  were  meat  and  drink.  But  I  can't  live,  and 
keep  my  children  alive  on  them.  " 

"  Susan,  they  do  not  know  how  destitute  you  are.  They  would 
scarcely  believe  me,  if  I  told  them  " 

"Why  don't  they  know?  —  as  well  as  Mrs.   Beame  and  Fanny 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  6l 

Beame?  I  never  saw  a  white  woman's  face  in  my  house,  and  speak- 
ing to  me  as  if  I  was  human,  but  yourself  and  your  mother.  They 
know  the  wants  of  savages  thousands  of  miles  off,  v/hy  not  know 
mine  .<*  If  I  lived  in  Africa,  and  was  a  v.ild  Gollah,  I  should  have 
fine  ladies  and  G^entlemen  at  mv  service."  Then  she  laughed  con- 
temptously,  and  said,  '*  Such  a  religion  is  ridiculous."  But  she 
requested  Fanny  to  read  on,  saying,  "  I  believe  in  you  and  your 
Bible." 

Fanny,  between  her  mother  and  Susan,  was  taught  some  hard 
lessons  that  day;  but  her  faith  in  the  "stated  means  of  grace,"  and 
the  "  ordinances  of  the  church,"  was  yet  unshaken.  These  lessons, 
like  some  seeds,  Vv'ere  to  lie  dormant  for  years  before  germination. 

Winter  and  his  young  mistress  took  another  route  home,  in  order 
to  call  on  old  black  Letty,  as  the  people  called  her.  They  ran, 
jumped,  and  slid  upon  and  beside  a  half  frozen  riband  of  a  brook 
looking  for  "  shiners  "  in  the  open  pools.  Letty's  house  was  set  in 
a  ravine,  betv/een  tv/o  pebbly  ridges  rising  higher  than  its  chimney. 

It  was  built  of  slabs  with  bark  on,  and  one  side  of  it  burrowed  in 
the  gravel  bank.  Two  small  v/indows  looked  into  the  other  bank, 
not  a  tree  or  bush  grew  near  it ;  and  the  only  loving,  lovable  thing 
in  the  ravine  was  the  purl  and  babble  of  the  tiny  brook  running 
through.  It  v;ould  have  green  velvet  borders,  spangled  with  early 
dandelions  ;  and  it  would  give  its  cup  of  cold  water  to  the  cowslip. 
It  never  despised  labor.  It  washed,  and  blued,  and  sprinkled,  and 
clear-starched  with  the  other  inhabitants  of  the  gorge  ;  it  was  part 
and  parcel  with  them. 

The  ground  on  which  her  poor  hut  stood  was  leased  to  them  by  a 
godless,  profane  old  sinner,  in  the  teeth  of  the  strongest  remon- 
strance and  indignation  of  the  respectable  part  of  the  community,  all 
of  whom  he  shocked  with  a  blasphemous  indifference  to  their  object- 
ions. 

"Damn  it!  let 'em  live,"  said  he,  "I  expect  they  are  God's  crit- 
ters, they  wont  make  you  black." 

But  in  cooler  moments  he  compromised  the  matter,  by  locating 
the  building  out  of  sight  of  the  road,  giving  the  poor  outcasts  two 
glass  windows,  to  admit  what  no  one  cared  to  stay,  the  light  of  the 
heavens. 

Aunt  Letty  held  Fanny's  hand  for  some  moments,  brushed  back 


62  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

her  wide  cap  border,  saying,  "I  believe  you  are  my  girl,  you  don't 
forget  me.     Sit  down  my  child.     Did  you  bring  your  Bible  .?" 

"  Yes,  Auntie,  and  that 's  all  I  brought  to-day.  I  came  to  see 
how  you  get  on.     Do  you  want  anything?" 

"  Oh,  I'm  in  a  peck  of  trouble  !  Squire  Flinn  sent  Lizzy  to  jail 
'cause  she  had  too  much  drink  when  his  wife  wanted  her  to  wash." 

"  Why,  he  sells  rum  himself,  in  his  store  ;  and  his  own  son  Alonzo 
died  from  hard  drinkins:." 

"  True,  he  sold  it  to  her  himself  ;  but  we  are  all  black,  Fanny.  I 
don't  know  w-hat  to  do.  They  say  she'll  stay  there  three  months. 
I  can  manage  the  washing  at  home,  if  I  could  get  the  '  biler  ' 
mended,  it  leaks  so." 

"  Let  Nancy's  Jim  bring  it  down  to  our  house  to-morrow  ;  Richard 
can  mend  it.  He  mended  something  for  mother,  the  other  day. 
Can  you  get  wood,  and  keep  warm .?" 

"  That  side  of  the  house  in  the  bank  is  warm  ;  but  the  slabs  is 
warped  on  the  nor'west  side,  the  wind  blows  through  there  power- 
fully, and  the  snow  too." 

"  I  will  bring  some  strips  of  old  cotton  cloth  to  paste  over  the 
cracks  ;  and  I  saved  a  large  roll  of  paper  for  you,  that  came  off  from 
our  rooms.  I  will  bring  that  with  a  pail  of  paste,  and  help  you  put  it 
on.  Richard  will  give  Jim  something  to  go  in  the  woods,  and  drag 
out  dead  branches  for  you.  That  old  man  that  swears  so,  owns  the 
woods  ;  w^on't  he  let  you  have  it  ?"' 

"  He  knows  we  get  dead  wood  there,  winters,  he  leases  the  hollow 
to  us.'- 

After  a  moment  or  two,  Fanny  spoke  up,  "  Auntie  Letty,  I've  just 
thought,  I  can  tell  Mary  Canby  to  send  you  a  bushel  of  rye.  I 
shall  see  her  at  protracted  meeting.  You  know  her  father  is  dead, 
and  she  can  do  as  she  likes  with  her  share  of  the  grain  ;  she  is 
eighteen  now." 

"That  would  be  a  great  help  :  it  would  keep  off  hunger  a  good 
many  days  ;  but  I  must  ask  you  for  one  thing  more.  Have  you 
anything  to  cover  my  shoulders,  when  I  stand  down  to  the  brook 
rinsing  clothes,  and  when  I  sit  here  ?  Rheumatics  pester  me  in 
my  old  age." 

"  Yes,  Aunt  Letty.  IMother  laid  by  my  green  cloak  with  fur 
round  it.     Now  you  must  think  of  me  when  you  wear  it,  won't  you.** 


WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  6^ 

I  will  bring  you  some  tobacco  too.    Have  you  any  ?  " 

'•  No,  my  darling  !  I'm  a  most  crazy  for  a  smoke  ;  but  I  haint  a 
cent  in  the  world," 

"  How  many  caps  have  you  now  ?" 

"  This  one  on  my  head,"  said  Aunt  Letty,  laughing. 

"  Then  I  will  make  you  two  this  week."' 

Fanny  read  the  seventy-first  and  seventy-second  Psalms,  com- 
menting upon  the  verse,  "  P'or  he  shall  deliver  the  needy  when  he 
crieth  ;  the  poor  also,  and  him  that  hath  no  helper."  She  also  re- 
marked upon  the  prayer  of  David  ;  "  Cast  me  not  off  in  the  time  of 
old  age  ;  forsake  me  not  when  my  strength  faileth  ;"  and  concluded, 
"  He  is  good.  Aunt  Letty;  if  you  can  trust  Him,  it  will  be  a  com- 
fort to  you." 

The  sun  swung  low  in  the  west.  Winter  and  Fanny  hurried 
home.  Mrs.  Beame  called  her  daughter  to  her  knee,  as  she  had 
done  for  years  past,  at  the  Sabbath  evening  sunset  hour.  Fanny 
was  slight  in  figure,  and  not  burdensome.  The  details  of  Susie's 
supper  entertained  both  listeners.  Rye  bread,  broken  crockery,  and 
even  the  lame  old  sauce-pan,  appeared  dipt  in  rainbow  hues,  as 
seen  through  her  description.  Mrs.  Beame  drew  Fanny  to  herself, 
speaking  in  a  low  voice  ;  "My  daughter!  do  you  know  I  think  your 
supper  with  Susie  was  a  sacrament,  a  re7nembrance  of  your  Lord  2  " 

"No,  mother,  the  sacrament  is  partaken  in  the  church  ;  it  should 
be  blessed  and  distributed  by  the  minister  and  deacons.  None  but 
Christians  are  admitted  to  communion." 

"I  know  that  is  the  custom,"  replied  the  mother  kindly,  smooth- 
ing the  brown  hair  ;  "  but  customs  are  not  religion.  Remember,  I 
call  that  supper  more  holy  and  acceptable,  than  many  of  those 
communions,  so  ostentatiously  commemorated  in  churches." 

"  Now  sing  with  me  my  favorite  hymn  in  this  twilight ;  "  and  for 
more  than  the  hundredth  time,  their  voices  blended  in  the  dear 
old   melody,  — 

"  Alas  !  and  did  my  Savior  bleed  ? 
And  did  my  Sovereign  die  ? 
Would  He  devote  that  sacred  head 
For  such  a  worm  as  I  ? 

Was  it  for  crimes  that  I  had  done 
He  groaned  upon  the  tree  ? 


64  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Amazing  pity  !  grace  unknown  ! 
And  love  beyond  degree  ! 

Fanny  and  Richard  had  learned  ev^ery  word  of  it  from  the  mother's 
lips  long  ago.  At  its  close,  they  observed  a  strange  look  of  calm 
on  the  usually  spirited  face.  A  solemn  hush  pervaded  the  room,  as 
if  the  group  were  in  the  immediate  presence  of  Calvary's  Cross. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  Northern  mail  had  just  come  in.  All  Charleston  was 
astir.  A  pile  of  letters  was  laid  upon  the  desk  in  the  office 
of  Kershaw  &  Lewis,  factors.  These  contained  orders  and  re- 
quests of  all  kinds  from  England,  Scotland,  France,  Italy,  and  every 
other  resting-place  of  the  wandering  pleasure- seekers  from  the  opu- 
lent homes  of  South  Carolina.  The  increasing  hum  of  business, 
on  East  Bay,  had  culminated  in  a  tornado  of  noise,  crashing  over 
the  pavements  with  a  deafening  din.  The  hand  of  the  senior  part- 
ner held  an  open  letter,  while  both  awaited  a  lull  in  the  tempest  of 
cotton  laden  drays. 

He  ran  over  the  contents  silently,  and  exclaimed  ;  "  He's  coming 
now — Ralph  will  be  here  the  last  of  March,  dangers  of  the  sea  ex- 
cepted;— tardy  a  month." 

''  Coming  then,  at  last !  "  replied  the  other;  "  he  was  to  have  writ- 
ten his  orders  weeks  ago  from  New  York." 

"New  York  is  another  Paris,  you  know, —  young  blood  is  up. 
See  here !  we  must  be  doing.  City  house  to  be  opened,  servants 
to  be  bought,  the  larder  filled,  carriage  and  horses  to  be  in  readi- 
ness.    He  takes  passage  on  the  sailing  packet  '  Sumter '." 

"  A  proud  day  for  Haywood,"  said  Mr.  Lewis,  "  when  he  steps 
from  the  '  Sumter '  upon  his  native  soil,  to  fill  his  father's  place  in 
sustaining  the  rights  of  our  superb  old  State." 

"  True,  sir ;  and  a  proud  day  for  Carolina  when  she  welcomes 
back,  and  enrolls  among  her  noble  sons,  the  name  of  Ralph  Hay- 
wood. Never  an  ignoble  stain  has  fallen  upon  the  laurels  of  his 
ancestry." 

Aye,  aye  !     His  character  has  the  old  Roman  ring.     A  second 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  65 

Horatius.  His  towering  strength  will  easily  cope  with  any  three 
of  those  rabid  abolition  Curatii,  forcing  them  to  bite  the  dust. 
How  much  time  for  filling  orders  ? 

"  Three  weeks.  That  is  short  enough.  Now  for  the  memo- 
randa. First,  servants ;  how  many  .'*  We  must  look  about  for  A 
No.  I's." 

*' '  Bram ,'  the  old  family  coachman,  will  have  the  horses  in  charge. 
He  will  handle  any  pair  ;  let  him  remain.  His,  wife,  old  Jane,  is 
washer.  She  will  suit  her  young  master's  caprices  better  than 
another." 

"Well  then,"  replied  the  other,  pencil  in  hand.  "  Say  cook,  but- 
ler, footman,  chambermaid,  and  gardener.  His  body  servant  will 
arrive  with  him.  Ralph  will  manage  to  put  the  chains  on  him 
agam ;  although  you  know  March  and  Ralph  had  the  same 
father." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Mr.  Kershaw  :  "  and  apropos  to  this  matter,  I 
just  noticed  in  the  Courier  a  chambermaid  for  sale.     Here  it  is  : 

By  A.  Tobias,  on  Tuesday  next,  precisely  at  ten  o'clock,  will  be  sold  before 
my  store,  without  reserve,  a  Likely  Mulatto  Wench,  a  good  seamstress  and 
house  servant.  The  above  servant  may  be  treated  for  at  private  sale  previous 
to  Tuesday  next. 

"Look  sharp!  You  are  aware  what  points  will  satisfy  our 
patron.     And  here's  another  advertisement." 

UNDER  DECREE   IN   EQUITY. 

Will  be  sold  at  the  Custom  House  on  Tuesday,  three  negroes  —  Andrew, 
aged  40,  a  well-trained  butler.  John,  aged  45,  a  complete  gardener  ;  and  Ha- 
gar,  aged  20,  a  valuable  house  servant. 

Terms  :  For  the  negroes,  one-half  cash ;  balance  in  bonds,  payable  with  in- 
terest one  year  from  date,  secured  by  a  mortgage  of  the  property,  with  personal 
security,  if  required.  James  W.  Bruin, 

Com.  in  Equity. 

"  There  now ;  if  these  answer,  we  have  all  but  the  footman,  and 
cook.  Can  buy  a  prime  boy  at  any  auction  sale,  but  a  cook  must 
be  provided  of  warranted  character." 

"  Next,  the  horses.  Old  '  Kentuck '  brings  a  drove  over  the 
mountains  from  his  own  State,  next  week.  Told  me  he  should 
bring  a  pair  of   chestnuts  fit  for  the  carriage  of  a  prince, —  fifteen 


66  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

hands  high ;  fiery  and  elegant  ;  price  one  thousand  dollars.  Better 
purchase  soon,  that  Bram  may  have  them  well  in  hand  when  his 
master  lands." 

"  I  observed  also,"  replied  the  other  factor,  "  that  a  new  invoice 
of  carriages  has  arrived  from  New  York  —  must  make  that  selection 
intime  for  the  horses.  The  supplies  for  the  house  are  mere  trifles. 
Bjtter  direct  the  liquors  purchased  at  Vieil  &:  Petray's,  the  French 
importers." 

It  was  near  nightfall,  when  the  "  Sumter  "  stood  outside  the  bar, 
looking  over  the  perilous  gateway  into  the  bay,  lying  between  her- 
self and  the  city.  Blinding  rain  swept  her  shining  deck.  Angry 
waves  ran  like  hissing  serpents  along  the  shallow  sands.  Grim, 
murky  clouds  rushed  down  to  the  very  waters,  as  if  seeking  a  hand 
to  hand  contest  with  the  billows.  The  gale  blew  heavy  and  fierce; 
a  fleet  of  small  fishing  craft  scud  through  the  yeasty  foam  like  sea- 
gulls, beating  landward. 

"  No  pilot  to-night !  "  roared  the  captain  ;  "  we  shall  May  to,'  out- 
side." Raising  his  trumpet  to  his  lips,  he  hailed  the  last  boat,  and 
bade  that  word  be  carried  to  "  Kershaw  &  Lewis,"  on  East  Bay, 
that  the  "  Sumter  "  would  be  at  the  wharf  at  sunrise. 

March  stood  at  his  post  near  Greylock.  The  spirited  creature 
was  worn  by  the  long  voyage  from  Europe,  and  now  became  fretted 
into  ill  humor  by  the  persistent,  aggravating  roll  of  the  vessel. 
March  examined  the  girths  and  supports  that  kept  the  Arabian  on 
his  feet.  When  a  sudden  lurch  of  the  vessel  caused  him  to  lean 
heavily  against  the  padded  sides  of  his  stall,  he  smoothed  the 
silken  flanks  with  a  petting  caress,  stroked  the  mane  gently,  or 
patted  the  straining  nostrils. 

"  Most  home,  my  beautv,  most  home  ! "  At  the  sound  of 
his  voice,  Greylock's  hopeless  eye  caught  a  gleam  of  brightness. 
In  the  lulls  of  motion,  the  strong  hand  of  the  watcher  passed  down 
the  trembling  limbs  of  the  imprisoned  animal.  Then  he  broke  the 
silence  by  talking:  "Tired  feet  will  rest  again,  plenty  of  green 
turf,  and  soft  sands  this  side  the  A-tlantic.  Patience,  boy,  patience. 
I'll  lead  you  to  a  gentler  hand  than  mine."  Improvising  verse  and 
melody,  he  sang, — 

*'  Flora's  glossy  curls  of  jet 
Shall  lean  against  your  mane,  my  pet ; 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  67 

Greylock's  fiery  eye  will  tame, 
When  my  Flora  calls  his  name," 

Ralph,  accustomed  from  his  cradle  to  see  all  obstacles  to  his  im- 
perious will  removed  by  others,  or  to  overcome  such  obstructions 
himself,  was  thoroughly  exasperated  at  beholding  the  liquid  barrier 
between  him  and  his  destination.  The  insolence  of  those  break- 
ers, jeering  in  their  thundering  gambols  at  him  and  the  captain, 
was  taunting  to  the  highest  degree.  Their  sarcastic  contempt  for 
any  allegiance  to  man  savored  too  strongly  of  freedom  for  his  arbi- 
trary will.  So,  after  some  futile  ebullitions  of  anger,  seasoned  with 
high-toned  oaths,  drinking  and  smoking,  he  "  turned  in  "  for  the 
night. 

March  had  commands  to  stand  by  Greylock  while  the  packet 
rolled ;  and  as  we  have  seen,  faithfully  executed  those  orders. 
Keeping  the  w^atches  of  the  stormy  night  so  near  the  land  of 
slavery,  revived  all  its  bitter  associations.  A  wilder  and  fiercer 
symphony  swept  the  chords  of  his  being  than  the  piping  of  the 
mad  wdnds  outside,  among  the  wet  shrouds.  The  weird  plantation 
songs  of  the  past  that  forevef  moaned  through  the  fields  and  wood- 
lands, surged  up  among  his  memories  w^ith  almost  supernatural 
power.  The  creaking  of  ropes,  and  the  rattling  of  anchor  chains 
suggested  hand-cuffs,  and  slave  gangs.  The  snapping  of  the 
streamer  in  the  wind  at  the  main-top,  brought  to  mind  the  pain- 
ful, but  familiar  sound  of  the  lash. 

He  stood  up  erect,  as  if  the  better  to  sustain  the  terrible  pres- 
sure upon  him.  The  left  hand  clasped  an  upright  plank  of  the 
stall,  above  his  head.  His  w^hite  shirt  sleeves  were  rolled  to  the 
elbow.  His  right  hand,  large  and  well-formed,  rested  upon  his  hip. 
Above  the  medium  height,  his  broad  shoulders  and  muscular  figure 
were  developed  into  a  faultless  symmetry.  An  observer  would 
have  felt  an  instinctive  admiration  for  the  sculptured  repose  of  his 
attitude,  and  the  kingly  calm  resting  on  his  features.  He  ques- 
tioned himself. 

"Why  did  I  return  to  America?  France,  Paris,  freedom  and 
manhood,  all  are  back  over  the  waters.  I  have  left  them  forever. 
Why  take  upon  myself  again  this  terrible  bondage  ?  Why  stretch 
out  my  hands  voluntarily,  for  manacles  that  lead  to  the  sham- 
bles ?    To  be  classed  with  Greylock  ;  to  be  bought  and  sold  with 


^8  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

cattle  ;  to  be  counted  with  senseless  chattels  ;  to  be  the  creature 
of  a  master's  power  like  a  spaniel  at  his  feet?  Yes,  I  am  black. 
This  color  was  a  matter  of  Gods's  omnipotent  pleasure — not 
mine  !  " 

Casting  his  eyes  into  the  pitchy  night  ;  he  went  on.  "One  half 
of  all  Time  is  black  —  black  night.  Only  one  half  of  life  is  wiiite 
day.  The  black  night  is  Time,  nevertheless.  I  am  a  man,  never- 
theless. What  is  that  one  drop  of  honey  in  this  bitter  cup,  for 
which  my  soul  thirsted,  for  which  I  was  willing  to  barter  all 
else  ? "  An  indescribable  look  of  tenderness  softened  the  dark, 
calm  eyes.  "Cruel  thought!  What  is  liberty  to  me  without  my 
dear  Flora  ?  I  would  cross  a  thousand  oceans,  wear  manacles  and 
chains,  or  endure  the  heaviest  stripes  for  her  sake — for  my  pre- 
cious wife  who  turned  from  the  most  fascinating  temptations  that 
man  can  devise,  to  my  poor  love." 

The  last  farewell,  so  long  since  taken,  flashed  up  before  his 
vision.  He  recalled  the  rich  crimson  of  the  flushed  cheeks,  with 
tears  upon  them,  like  deep  crimson  roses  wet  with  the  plash  of 
rain-drops.  He  remembered  the  dark  coral  lips,  trembling  with 
the  burden  they,  could  not  utter ;  and  he  felt  the  pressure  of  the 
fond  arms  that  would  fain  have  held  him  for  aye. 

Greylock  was  lonely ;  he  whinnied  low  and  pitifully,  like  a  ne- 
glected child.  The  swash  of  the  waves  again  filled  the  ear  of 
Slarch.  "  Still  at  sea,"  he  said,  and  went  on  soothing  his  com- 
panion. The  climax  of  his  hour  of  agony  melted  away  before  the 
love  he  bore  Flora.  She  was  the  sun  of  his  blank  existence,  and 
she  had  arisen  full  above  the  horizon  of  his  sickening  future.  The 
rays  of  her  love  gilded  the  grave  of  his  manhood,  which  his  own 
hands  had  prepared.     March  Haywood  was  a  slave  again. 

He  fell  to  improvising,,  mournfully  crooning  his  lines,  interrupted 
only  by  the  spectral  shadows  of  the  sailors  silently  gliding  to  and 
fro.  He  took  up  the  broken  thread  of  his  idyl  to  Greylock,  the 
substance  of  which  is  embodied  as  follows : 

Flora,  darling,  waits  for  me, 
Flora  waits  for  me  and  thee  ; 
Nothing  but  this  stormy  bar, 
Keeps  me  from  my  love  so  far. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  69 

Dear  to  me  is  Slavery's  chain, 
So  it  leads  to  thee  again  ; 
Sweet  to  me  are  prison  walls, 
When  within,  my  Flora  calls. 

All  these  long  and  absent  years, 
Haunted  through  by  cruel  fears, 
I  kept  the  look  of  thy  sweet  face. 
Fresh  as  in  our  last  embrace. 

Human  vultures  sweeping  o'er. 
Clutch  at  my  low  cabin  door; 
If  my  lamb  be  snatched  awa}', 
Woe  to  me,  O  God  !  that  day. 

Then  the  trader's  flying  trail  — 
Then  the  block  —  the  auction  sale  ; 
All  the  tears  of  cruel  awe 
None  but  Master  Jesus  saw. 

Bless  thy  letters  !  precious  things ! 
White  as  sea-fowl's  snowy  wings. 
They  came  o'er  the  stormy  sea. 
Bringing  hope  and  peace  for  me. 

All  that  writing  seemed  aglow 
With  a  love  that  hushed  my  woe, 
When  they  read.  Thy  curls  of  jet 
Waited,  waited  for  me  yet. 

Listen,  Flora,  to  the  breeze, 
Creeping  through  the  piny  trees; 
Listen  to  the  news  they  bear, 
When  they  lift  your  rings  of  hair. 

They  will  whisper,  March  has  come, 
Never  more  from  you  to  roam  : 
This,  young  master  promised  me. 
O'er  the  blue  Atlantic  sea. 

Darkness  fled  at  the  approach  of  one  of  those  beautiful  dawns 
born  from  Southern  waters.  A  majestic  tide  had  engulfed  the 
hissing  breakers  of  the  previous  night,  and  still  rolled  landward, 
invoking  the  "Sumter"  with  its  deep-mouthed  voice  to  ride  west- 
ward into  the  bay  on  its  sun-gilded  billows.  The  pavilion  of  the 
rising  sun,  borne  to  the  very  edge  of  the  Eastern  Ocean,  rested  on 


70  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

the  rim  of  the  waters,  awaiting,  apparently,  his  royal  will.  He  had 
not  yet  stepped  forth  upon  his  azure  path  up  the  heavens  ;  the 
glory  within,  lined  and  fringed  the  ash-colored  curtains  of  velvet 
cloud  that  still  screened  his  presence.  Borders  of  dazzling  orange 
and  translucent  amber  folds  rose  against  the  sky,  and  spread  a 
golden  radiance  over  the  broad  expanse  of  eastern  waves. 

Dancing  pilot  boats  offered  friendly  aid,  and  thus  convoyed,  the 
the  "  Sumter  ■'  brought  to  the  quay  the  returned  scion  of  one  of 
the  noble  families. 

Bram,  in  the  dignity  of  a  green  livery  and  silver-laced  hat,  held 
the  chestnut  span  in  hand  close  to  the  gang-plank. 

The  newly  purchased  footman,  Dick,  a  springy  brown  boy  of 
about  fifteen,  held  the  carriage  door,  steps  down,  for  his  new 
master. 

The  blue  satin  curtains  of  the  carriage,  fringed  and  tasseledwith 
white,  waved  a  welcome  to  their  proud  owner.  The  horses  cur- 
vetted and  threw  foam  on  the  bv  standers. 

Slaves  of  all  shades  doffed  hats  to  the  "  young  massa  jes  done 
trabel."  Old  maumas  with  gay  turbaned  heads,  and  baskets  on 
their  arms,  dropped  respectful  courtesies  on  all  sides  of  the  car- 
riage. Some  dear  old  aunties,  who  had  been  taught  Sabbath  days 
from  the  enlightened  pulpit,  and  on  week  days  by  the  whip- lash, 
that  the  white  race  was  formed  in  the  wisdom  of  God,  especially  to 
enslave  the  African,  ejaculated  heartily  and  piously,  '' De  Lord 
bress  ye ! " 

Bram,  who  had  driven  "  heaps  ob  de  Carliny  lady  and  gen- 
tleums,"  was  highly  elated  at  being  once  more  officially  reinstated. 
Drawing  up  the  reins  in  his  white  gloves,  he  espied  a  small  piece 
of  ebony  and  ivory  "scrape  de  foot "  at  him  facetiously;  where- 
upon he  gave  the  tiny  jester  a  touch  of  the  snapper  of  his  whip, 
and  the  low-spoken  but  high-toned  warning,  "  Get  out  de  way, 
dere,  3'ou  s'nitican'  nigger !  " 

The  carriage  dashed  forward  across  the  Bay,  through  Meeting 
into  Broad  street,  and  drew  up  before  the  iron  ancestral  gate. 
Massive  high  stuccoed  walls  concealed  the  yard,  garden,  and  half 
the  house  from  view.  It  had  the  air  of  a  prison  ;  and  a  stranger 
would  have  called  it  so,  except  for  the  other  walled-in  residences 
everywhere  seen.     Here  and  there  along  the  top  of  this  grim  en- 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  7 1 

closure  clusters  of  pink  and  purple  bloom  peered  into  the  sunshine, 
hinting  at  the  paradise  within.  Through  the  iron  gate,  held  by 
Dick,  along  the  black  and  white  diamond  walk,  up  the  flight  of 
broad  white  marble  steps,  with  March  following  closely  after,  the 
young  master  found  himself  in  the  lower  hall,  encountering  a  small 
regiment  of  bows  and  courtesies  from  his  assembled  servants. 
Dick  ascended  the  staircase  with  Ralph,  and  ushered  him  into  his 
own  apartments. 

"  Send  March  to  me,"  said  Ralph.     "  Lay  the  breakfast  at  ten." 

The  windows  of  his  chamber  opened  to  the  floor  :  the  cool, 
shaded  piazza  invited  him  out.  A  colonnade  of  white  fluted  pillars 
rose  against  the  blue  day.  Between  these  were  seen  gleams  of  the 
Ashley  river,  and  the  feathery  tops  of  island  pines  beyond.  'J'he 
left  corner  of  the  house  wore  upon  its  shoulder  a  trailing  mantle  of 
dark  green  English  ivy.  Climbing  roses  looked  over  the  balus- 
trade between  the  pillars,  or  swung  in  sprays  carelessly  therefrom. 
Below,  a  parterre  cut  into  shell  walks,  and  gay  with  many-hued 
flowers,  still  glittered  resplendent  with  its  dew-drop  jewelry.  John, 
the  new  gardener,  bought  at  auction  before  the  Custom  House, 
proved  a  fine  investment.  Well-shorn  hedges  extended  their  vel- 
vet walls  each  side  of  the  marble  walk  from  the  gate  to  the  house, 
and  along  the  divisions  of  the  grounds.  The  exuberant  foliage  of 
the  trees  seemed  perennial  —  not  a  fallen  leaf  littered  the  shell 
paths  beneath. 

Ralph's  mind  was  running  along  the  links  of  old  associations, 
when  March,  stepping  to  a  respectful  distance  at  his  side,  said,  •'  I 
am  here  sir." 

"  Wash  and  dress  me  for  breakfast." 

March  bathed  and  dressed  the  master  with  the  care  of  a  parent 
for  a  child,  with  a  deftness  and  celerity  that  made  the  toilet  no 
interruption  to  Ralph's  flow  of  thought.  His  cogitations  went  on 
in  a  turbulent  elementary  chaos.  Kaleidoscopic  views  revolved 
swiftly.  Grace,  marriage,  crops,  plantations,  club-houses,  summer 
tours,  Newport,  hounds,  Paris,  Greylock  and  Flora  slid  into  mar- 
velous figures,  and  glided  into  other  forms  as  quickly. 

Intently  absorbed,  he  stood  like  an  automaton,  receiving  from  his 
valet  the  last  touches  of  neatness.  The  only  trouble  March  had 
with  him,   was   in  drawing  on  one  of  his  boots    which   was   entirely 


72  WHTIE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

too  small.  A  sudden  kick  threw  it  out  of  March's  hands,  and 
across   the  room. 

"  Damnation,  March  !  do  you  know  who  I  am  ?  Draw  that  boot 
on  easier,  or  —  I'll  send  you  to  Hades!" 

A  dash  of  carriage  wheels  and  a  sharp  ring  at  the  gate,  ushered  in 
Lewis  Dentelle,  oE  Savannah,  Georgia.  Three  steps  at  a  bound, 
up  into  the  dressing-room  he  tore.  He  laid  a  light  tap  of  his  cane 
on  Ralph's  shoulder  with  the  familiar  greeting,  — 

"  There,  truant  1  By  Jove  !  you're  home  again  at  last.  Heard  you 
came  in  the  '  Sumter.'  Put  the  horses  over  the  course  to  arrest 
)^our  Fiench  Highness,  before  you  might  go  out." 

"  Haven't  got  in, yet,"  replied  Ralph,  ''  but  I'm  deuced  glad  to  see 
you.  Lew.     I  feel  the  loss  of  Paris  already.     Ah  !  that's  the  jewel 

of  cities," 

"  How  does  Charleston  look  to  you  now,  Haywood  ?" 

"  It  looks  as  if  I  had  arrived  in  a  young  desert  just  planted  with 
a  few  houses  and  nursery  trees.  It  is  too  small  and  huttish.  Why 
don't  they  pull  down  these  wooden  hovels  on  every  street,  and  build 
up  with  suitable  structures?" 

"  What  structures,  Ralph  ?  such  as  Les  Tuillcnes,  Notre  Dame, 
etc.?  When  we  secede,  and  set  up  a  throne,  we  can  remodel 
Charleston  royally,  a  la  Parish 

"Three  cheers  for  that  sentiment,"  replied  Ralph  enthusiastically. 
"  Come  down  to  breakfast,  Lew,  ensuite,  ?wiis  vcnwis  ;  then,  lifted  on 
the  exhilarating  aroma  of  our  Habanas,  let  our  souls  commingle." 

At  the  table,  March  took  his  accustomed  place  at  the  back  of 
Ralph's  chair,  pointing  Dick  to  the  chair  of  Dentelle.  The  silver 
breakfast  service  and  fine  old  porcelain  of  the  former  household, 
graced  the  occasion. 

Andrew,  the  butler,  brought  in  fresh  fish  from  the  bar,  venison 
from  the  forest,  duck  from  the  marshes,  eggs,  corn-cake,  and  the 
ever-present  dishes  of  rice  and  hominy.  This  old  servant's  move- 
ments forward  or  backward  were  one  continued  series  of  obsequious 
bowings  and  scrapings.  He  was  the  very  essence  of  humility  ; 
ofien  saying  he  was  only  "  de  dus'  ob  de  eart  j  not  fittin'  for  white 
man  to  wipe  he  foot  on." 

March  served  his  master's  plate  at  the  side  table  and  placed  it 
before  him. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  73 

"Take  that  cursed  plate  hence  !  bring  venison  and  duck  with  rice. 
Dentelle,  I  have  been  pampered  too  long,  to  return  to  hominy;  I 
object!" 

"  Well,  I  swear  Ralph,  that  same  hominy  is  the  breath  of  my  life. 
In  Germany,  at  the  University,  I  ordered  barrels  of  it  from  Sa- 
vannah. Students  called  me  the  Bald  Eagle,  because  I  fed  on 
American  white  sand,   as  they  termed  hominy." 

"  Try  this  duck,  Dentelle  ;  it  lacks  the  old,  delicious  flavor,  some- 
what ;  cooked  too  soon.  Andrew,  how  long  since  the  ducks  were 
shot  ?" 

Bringing  back  his  foot,  and  bowing  profoundly,"  Tree  day,  sah  j 
couldn't  say  'cisely  when  de  ship  come  in." 

"Hereafter,  let  the  duck  hang  till  the  neck  is  ready  to  part,  and 
the  joints  yield  to  the  slightest  touch.  That's  the  kind  of  living 
for  an  epicure ;  hear  ?" 

"  Heah,  sah?     Yes,  sah,"  bowing  again. 

Dentelle,  with  a  loud  laugh,  asked  Andrew  if  he  was  born  in  the 
Court  of  France  ? 

"  Neber  see  France,  sah  j  born  Gollah  country;  king  fam'ly,  sah." 

"What  brought  you  here  with  your  Court  manners?" 

"I  trabel,  sah  j"  a  scrape  and  a  bow;  "see  dis  big  country,  and 
de  gran'  masser." 

"  All  right.  Prince  Andrew,  bring  your  best  from  the  wine  room," 
said  Haywood  ;  Madeira,  sherry  and  brandy.  Read  the  names,  old 
fellow  ?" 

Bowing,  and  drawing  back  his  foot,  — 

"  Yes,  sah.     Marsa  Peyton  larn  me  in  old  Virginny." 

"  It  is  against  the  laws  of  South  Carolina  and  Georgia  for  you  to 
read." 

"  Dunno,  sah,  I  read  for  de  gentleums  ;   don'  read  for  self." 

"  What  can  you  read  ?  the  abolition  papers  ?  That's  dangerous 
work." 

"  No,  sah,  I  reads  de  barrel  and  de  demijohn ;  reads  wine,  'Dary, 
shary  whisky,  brandy.  Tuk  long  time  to  larn,  sah.  Marse  Peyton 
take  de  black  whip,  den  I  larns  de  English,  sah." 

"  How  do  you  read  wine  ?"  interrupted  Dentelle. 

"  Lettle  word,  sah.  Begins  wid  two  wine  glass  techin'  de  rims, 
when  de  marsa  drink  health." 


74  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

"  How  do  you  read  Madeira?" 

"  Long  word,  begin  wid  a  leetle  garden  gate,  and  hab  star  ober 
him." 

**  Sherry  ?"  said  Ralph. 

A  low  bow  and  hands  clasped  over  his  white  apron  ;  "  Begin  wid 
de  rattlesnake,  sah,  an'  eend  wid  de  fox-tail." 

"  Brandy  ?  you  college-learned  cuss." 

"Begin  with  fat  ole  mauma,  and  eend  widde  fox-tail." 

"  All  right,  Prince  Andrews,  go  to  your  books  in  the  wine  room, 
and  bring  as  ordered." 

A  smart  pull  at  the  bell  preceded  the  clattering  of  canes  and 
brisk  heels  up  the  sidewalk, —  six  figures  .darkened  the  dining-room 
door.     Hilarious  greetings  and  noisy  mirth  followed. 

"Ten  thousand  pardons,  Haywood,  for  this  apparent  neglect." 

"  No  apologies  are  needed,  gentlemen,"  replied  Ralph.  "I  am 
hardly  in  a  condition  for  companionship  myself.  After  a  few  hours 
of  recuperation,  I  shall  be  able  to  hold  my  own  with  you." 

Andrew  just  then  placed  the  wine  upon  the  table,  of  which  all 
partook  freely.  The  clinking  of  glasses  chimed  with  repeated 
demonstrations  of  welcome.  Sentiments  were  offered  and  boister- 
ously drank  to  common  objects  of  interest ;  to  Carolina,  king  Cotton, 
Free  Trade,  and  State  Rights,  subjects  ever  upon  Southern  lips. 

In  the  midst  of  these  bacchanals,  the  light  step  of  a  woman 
crossed  the  piazza.  She  was  of  brown  complexion,  tall,  slender, 
and  wavy-haired.  Timid  parted  lips  and  snowy  teeth  enhanced  her 
charms.  A  thread  of  scarlet  velvet  bound  her  head,  corals 
depended  from  her  small  ears.  Her  tasteful  dress  and  white  apron 
fluttered  quietly  past.     Not  an  eye  missed  the  vision. 

"  That  was  a  handsome  purchase  ;"  said  one.  "  Buy  her  here, 
Ralph  ?" 

"  Mars  !  the  goddess  Diana  couldn't  outdo  that,"  said  another  ; 
"  worth  the  money,  whatever  the  price  !" 

"  Want  to  sell,  Haywood  ?"  said  another.  "  Here's  my  check  for 
two  thousand." 

"  I  protest  against  robbery  of  that  kind,"  interposed  a  third. 
Let  wood-nymphs,  sylphs,  and  fairies  welcome  South  Carolina's  son. 
"  Let  us  drink  to  Ralph's  exclusive  possession,  in  the  sentiment  which 
our  poet  laureate  will  offer." 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  75 

As  readily  as  a  bird  carols  his  vvildwood  song,  the  poet,  with  glass 
in  hand,  repeated, — 

"  Drink,  comrades,  drink  !  this  Lethean  balm 
Will  yield  a  gallant,  generous  calm ; 
Drink  to  these  angels  in  disguise : 
Drink  deep  and  drown  your  tender  sighs  : 
Drink  to  this  lovely,  dark  quadroon, 
Drink  to  the  vision  lost  so  soon. 
Drink  to  her  beauty,  and  his  joy, 
Who  holds  her  charms,  so  rich  and  coy. 
Drink  deep  to  women  of  all  lands  ; 
Caucassian  first,  for  legal  bans. 
Then,  drink,  with  thought  and  fancy  free, 
To  brown,  or  red,  as  chance  may  be  ; 
Drink  deep  to  woman's  love  —  the  same, 
Whate'er  the  color,  race,  or  name." 

A  hearty  response  followed.  Deep  draughts  sanctioned  the 
sentiment. 

The  troop  clattred  down  stairs,  out  upon  the  marble  walks, 
leaving  the  clanking  iron  gate  closed  after  them,  and  Ralph  to  his 
coveted  repose. 

Ralph  and  Dentelle  resumed  conversation  in  a  more  serious  and 
confidential  manner.  They  lounged  in  luxuriant  easy-chairs  drawn 
upon  the  piazza,  fronting  Ralph's  chamber.  This  piazza  com- 
manded the  charming  river,  and  James  Island  beyond,  swimming 
in  the  delicious  haze  of  a  spring  morning.  The  idly  sparkling 
waters  of  the  broad  Ashley  breathed  an  indolence  in  lordly  contrast 
with  the  busy  strife  of  commerce,  which  made  northern  streams  the 
handmaids  of  industry,  and  the  crowded  thoroughfares  of  enterprise 
and  trade. 

A  crystalized   silence  held  the  river,  the  islands,  and  piny  groves, 

No  stranger  keel  ever  cleft  its  blue  surface.  No  strans^er  foot 
unbidden,  explored  its  vassaled  shores.  The  feudalism  of  the 
middle  ages  made  a  mournful  pilgrimage  to  the  New  World  ;  and 
here  had  been  set  up  a  mutilated  idol  for  the  worship  of  knights 
untitled,  and  squires  unspurred.  There  remained  to  it  only  its  ar- 
rogance, isolation,  and  oppression. 

Ralph  and  Dentelle  were  as  fair  representatives  of  this  condition, 
as  could  well  be  found.  They  were  the  genuine  offspring  of  a  mis- 
cegenation by  the  glittering  lance  of  chivalry,  and   the  broad  plan- 


76  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

tation  hoe.  They  were  the  true  resultant  of  the  barbarism  of  the 
past,  the  Christianity  of  the  present.  They  had  been  intimates  from 
the  cradle  —  had  hunted  deer  together  through  the  deep  forests  of 
their  broad  lands.  They  had  traveled  together  and  in  divergent 
ways,  till  now,  they  met  again  on  the  iron  threshold  of  manhood. 

"  So  you  are  married,  IDen  telle  ?" 

"  Ah,  yes,  Ralph,  some  time  ago." 

"  What  fair  being  was  the  honored  recipient  of  your  love  ? " 

"  My  love  ?" 

"  Yes,  of  course,  your  love,  Dentelle.  Surely  what  other  motive 
would  link  you  for  life  in  the  indissoluble  bonds  of  our  Southern 
matrimony }  " 

"  Your  irony  hath  a  sharp  edge.  There  is  no  lack  of  motives  for 
marriage.  My  motive  was  the  reparation  of  beggared  finances. 
Repeated  losses  at  the  races,  tables  of  chance,  etc.,  rendered  me 
nearly  bankrupt.  Something  must  be  done.  I  had  made  some 
acquaintance  in  Philadelphia  with  an  old  captain  of  a  slaver,  for- 
merly bringing  cargoes  of  negroes  to  our  shores.  I  took  pains  to 
ascertain  his  abilities  to  replenish  my  ruined  coffers,  and  found  that 
bonds,  bank  shares,  and  ready  money  to  a  satisfactory  amount, 
awaited  his  only  daughter's  nuptials.  I  made  haste  to  air  my 
knightly  graces,  wooed  and  won  the  magnificent  dower,  and  brought 
my  wife  triumphantly  to  Savannah." 

Ralph's  brow  clouded.  "  Why  go  to  the  North,  Dentelle,  for  a 
wife?  Why  bring  a  bride  to  sully  the  blue  blood  of  the  proud 
chivalry  of  Georgia,  by  an  alliance  among  the  ignoble  and  base- 
born?" 

"  Not  so  fast,  my  friend.  To  command  a  slaver,  should  in  our 
heraldry,  be  a  sufficient  reason  for  conferring  blue  blood.  My  fac- 
tors were  harassed  with  daily  demands  which  could  not  be  answered, 
and  my  father  frowned." 

"  How  does  she  take  to  our  Southern  Institution  ?" 

"  As  if  she  were  to  the  manor  born.  Mi  esposa  rara  takes  off  her 
slipper,  and  punishes  delinquents  in  genuine  Southern  style.  You 
should  see  her  wearing  her  raw  hide,  and  using  it  too,  about  the 
pantries  and  kitchens." 

"  What  became  of  your  love  alliance  with  the  entrancing  octaroon, 
Isabel  ?" 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  77 

"  Dentelle  answered  thoughtfully, — 

"  The  why,  the  where,  what  boots  it  now  to  tell  ? 
Since  all  must  end  in  that  wild  word  —  farewell." 

He  walked  away  to  the  clustering  rose-vine  clinging  to  the  bal- 
ustrade, pulled  a  stem  of  the  tiny  yellow  things,  and  twirling  them 
absently  in  his  fingers,  came  back  to  Ralph.  "  My  graceful  tender 
Isabel  was  sold.  She  could  never  have  endured  the  knowledge  that 
I  was  living  with  another.  I  did  that  most  grievous  act  of  my  life 
because  I  could  not  witness  her  distress  at  my  apparent  abandon- 
ment. She  would  not  have  believed  that  circumstances  made  a 
marriage  imperative.  Her  heart  would  have  broken  ;  it  is  all  over 
now.  My  happiness  was  bartered  for  my  wife's  gold.  It  is  all  over, 
Haywood.  I  am  now  fairly  entered  upon  the  race  of  life,  married 
by  law,  and  custom,  bound  to  all  Southern  issues,  an  unflinching 
adversary  to  Northern  aggressions,  and  a  sworn  supporter  of  our 
Federal  Constitution." 

"What  are  the  pressing  issues  of  the  hour  ?  By  Jupiter!  I  also 
am  a  true  son  of  the  South,  and  love  her  to  my  heart's  core.  But 
to  emerge  from  the  bower  of  the  Arts,  the  seat  of  the  Graces, 
adopted  Paris  ;  to  become  a  Nestor  in  the  sectional  contest  with  the 
Northern  barbarians  of  the  Republic !  I  swear  it  is  anything  but 
agreeable." 

With  a  resolute  air,  Dentelle  stretched  forth  his  hand,  and  made 
a  gesture  of  dismissal  to  such  trifles,  and  replied, — 

"  Away  with  these  voluptuous  regrets  !  The  deuce,  Ralph,  you 
are  made  of  sterner  stuff !  You  inherit,  nolens  vole?is,  the  virtues, 
pluck,  and  integrity  of  a  blooded  line.  Think  of  our  venerable 
Agamemnon,  our  Calhoun  !  You  can  but  follow  his  glorious  leader- 
ship." 

"Well,  the  impending  issues?"  demanded  Ralph. 

"  They  are  —  well ;  Free  Trade,  Nullification,  State  Rights,  Cal- 
houn's Balance  Power  of,  or  Extension  of  Slave  Territory,  Coloniza- 
tion of  the  Free  Negroes,  and  Abolition.  How's  that,  formidable  ? 
Courage,  my  friend !  You  will  soon  be  initiated.  Our  whole 
people  are  agitated  with  the  discussion  of  these  subjects,  like  forest 
leaves  in  a  tornado.     Our  ladies  even,  are  polished  statesmen.    At 


y8  WHTIE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 


a 


every   social  gathering  you    will    hear   words  of  wisdom     droppin 
from  their  lips." 

"  What   about  this  Free   Trade,  or  Tariff,  or  what  the   devil  it  is 
called,  Dentelle  ?  " 

"■Mafoi!  Ralph,  let  me  explain.  The  South  will  have  no  tarifT. 
The  North  and  West  are  encouraging  Home  manufactures,  and 
insist  upon  Protection.  England  is  (?7^r  great  purchaser,  and  con- 
sumer. She  buys  of  us  over  three  hundred  million  pounds  of  cot- 
ton a  year,  of  the  four  hundred  and  sixty  millions  we  produce, 
averaging  over  two  hundred  pounds  exported,  to  each  slave.  Now 
this  tariff  on  British  exports,  (which,  by  the  wa}-,  is  mostly  received 
at  the  North,)  will  induce  retaliatory  measures  on  the  part  of  the 
English.  Retaliation  will  fall  on  us.  England  will  not  only  de- 
mand a  revenue  from  our  cotton,  but  will  be  led  to  look  elsewhere 
for  her  supplies  ;  to  Egypt,  to  the  West  Indies,  and  to  South 
America.  In  the  language  of  Mr.  Hamilton,  of  your  State,  in  a 
speech  at  the  Walterborough  dinner,  'unmitigated  ruin  must  be  our 
portion,  if  this  system  continues.'  " 

'•  How  stands  IMcDuffie  on  this  Northern  legislation?  "  enquired 
Ralph. 

"Ah,  Ralph!  South  Carolina  has  political  leaders  with  whose 
giant  stature  the  Northern  and  Western  States  cannot  measure 
strength.  IMcDuffie  stands  shoulder  to  shoulder  with  Calhoun. 
Against  this  Northern  policy  of  Protection,  he  has  even  fought 
many  a  duel  with  its  radical  advocates.  His  eagle  eye  pierces 
cant  and  hypocrisy,  his  voice  warns  our  people  that  this  protective 
system  is  intended  to  precipitate  upon  us  the  moral  and  political 
catastrophe  of  the  emancipation  of  our  slaves.  Hear  !  Ralph ! 
I  repeat  his  prophetic  words ;  '  Any  course  of  measures  which 
shall  hasten  the  abolition  of  slavery,  by  destroying  the  value  of 
slave  labor,  will  bring  upon  the  Southern  States  the  greatest  politi- 
cal calamity  with  which  they  can  be  afflicted.  P^or  I  sincerely  be- 
lieve, that  when  the  people  of  these  States  shall  be  compelled  by 
such  means  to  emancipate  their  slaves,  they  will  be  but  a  few  de- 
grees above  the  condition  of  the  slaves  themselves.  Yes  Sir  ; 
mark  what  I  say!  Whenthe  people  of  the  South  cease  to  be  mas- 
ters by  the  tampering  influence  of  this  Government,  direct  or  indi 
rest,  thev  will  assuredlv  be  slaves. 


> » 


WHITE   MAY.   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  79 

"Slaves !"  cried  Ralph.  "Preposterous!"  His  haughty  eyes 
gleamed  defiantly.  "Slaves!"  he  cried,  starting  from  his  chair, 
his  tall,  fine  figure  looming  up  ominously.  "Slaves!  To  whom?" 
as  if  the  North  and  West  lay  cowering  at  his  feet,  beneath  his  out- 
stretched arms.  "  Slaves  to  those  who,  from  the  first,  have  sub- 
mitted their  will  to  ours  ?  Slaves  to  those  who  are  already  our 
slaves.'*  Ha!  ha!  ha!  by  the  gods!  Slaves  to  hirelings  who  till 
their  rocky  soil,  to  send  sustenance  to  our  negroes  ?  Slaves  to 
men  whose  hostilitv  to  Constitutional  measures  embitters  every 
Southern  breast?  To  minions  who  crouch  with  repeated  com- 
promises to  our  demands.  Slaves?  when,  and  how?  I  ask.  Let 
him  who  dares,  answer." 

With  vehemence  his  right  hand  clutched  a  silver  hilt,  and  drew 
a  bright  blade,  quivering  to  the  light,  from  a  hidden  sheath.  He 
held  it  steadily,  as  for  a  fatal  plunge,  and  repeated, — 

"  I  know  where  I  will  wear  this  dagger  !  then 
Cassius  from  bondage  will  deliver  Cassius  !  " 

He  folded  his  imperialism  gloomily  about  him,  like  a  Roman 
garment :  with  knitted  brow,  and  folded  arms  he  strode  stifily  back 
and  forth  —  the  Cassius  he  quoted.  His  confrere,  Brutus,  struck  by 
the  Roman  fire,  replied, — 

"  If  it  be  aught  toward  the  general  good, 
Set  honor  in  one  eye,  and  death  i'  the  other, 
And  I  will  look  on  both,  indifferently, 
For  let  the  gods  so  speed  me,  as  I  love 
The  name  of  honor,  more  than  I  fear  death." 

The  curtain  fell  —  between  the  acts  they  rested,  took  refresh- 
ments, smoked  and  drank. 

"  Dentelle,  what  of  Georgia?  what  of  her  championship  ?" 
"  Aut  vincere,  ant  mori.  The  pulses  of  the  cotton-growing  States 
throb  with  the  same  beat.  All  deprecate  Northern  manufactures, 
and  internal  improvements.  All  insist  upon  the  return  of  the 
North  and  West  to  agriculture,  in  order  to  furnish  stock  and  pro- 
visions for  us.  Georgia  steps  to  the  same  music  with  Carolina  j 
and  she  has  taken  one  step  in  advance  of  your  State,  Ralph. 
Georgia  has  proven  valor  against  that  Northern  '  Jack  o'  Lantern  ' 
tiiiif,  and  a  tenacity  of  purpose,  which  vv'ill  not  know  defeat." 


8o  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

"What  Step  has  Georgia  taken  in  advance  of  South  Carolina?" 
enquired  Ralph,  whose  State  pride  seemed  a  little  wounded. 

"  In  a  large  public  concourse,  she  passed  this  resolution : 

^^  ^  Resolved,  That  to  retaliate  as  far  as  possible  upon  our  op- 
pressors, our  legislature  be  requested  to  impose  taxes,  amounting 
to  prohibition,  on  the  hogs,  horses,  mules,  and  the  cotton  bagging, 
whisky,  pork,  beef,  bacon,  flax  and  hemp  cloth  of  the  Western,  and 
on  all  the  productions  and  manufactures  of  the  Eastern  and 
Northern  States.'" 

"  Bravo ! "  cried  Ralph.  "  But  tell  me,  Dentelle,  was  that 
Georgia  resolution  ever  carried  into  practice  ?  Were  these  taxes 
on  Northern  products  ever  levied  ?  " 

"  Ha !  ha  !  ha !  No.  There  was  no  necessity.  But  it  had  its  le- 
gitimate effect,  in  demonstrating  to  the  supporters  of  tariff,  the  kind 
of  temper  they  would  have  to  deal  with.  Such  acts,  with  South 
Carolina's  courageous  step  toward  secession,  wrung  from  the  Gov- 
ernment Henry  Clay's  '  Compromise  Tariff.'  After  we  obtained 
that  concession,  proposed  by  the  bland  Kentuckian,  and  carried 
by  Congress,  which  reduces  the  tariff  from  forty,  to  twenty  per 
cent,  we  were  appeased.     Thus  we  triumphed  over  the  Pilgrims  !  " 

"And  ever  shall.  Curse  their  cringing  souls!"  cried  Ralph, 
between  his  teeth,  and  striding  excitedly  the  length  of  the  piazza. 
"We  can  mould  them  as  easily  as  our  cooks  manipulate  dough  on 
the  board.  They  fear  us  ;  and  their  insipid  adulation  of  a  South- 
erner is  disgusting  to  the  last  degree.  It  is  patent  —  in  Washing- 
ton, at  the  watering  places,  at  hotels,  and  everywhere.  However, 
it  serves  our  purposes.  Too  poor  themselves,  in  us  they  worship 
means.  We  travel  in  Europe.  They  stay  at  home  and  plod.  In 
the  enjoyment  of  our  summer  leisure,  we  distribute  our  gold  among 
them,  while  they  toil  and  sweat  on  a  par  with  our  slaves.  They 
call  this  welco77ie  a7id  subserviency  to  us;  Christian  Union,  or  some 
such  infernal  thing.     I  stigmatize  it  as  base  sycophancy." 

"That's  the  spirit!"  answered  Dentelle.  "You  will  soon  shake 
off  your  Parisian  lethargy."  Then  looking  at  his  watch,  he  re- 
marked, "  But  there  is  a  necessity  for  closing  this  conversation  for 
the  present,  as  I  have  an  engagement  at  this  hour." 

"An  agreeable  interview,"  courteously  observed  Ralph."  "I 
suppose   1  cannot  understand  our  status  too  soon."     Then  grasp 


WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  8 1 

ing  with  warmth  the  hand  of  his  early  friend  and  associate,  he 
bade  him  a  short  adieu,  till  they  should  meet  again  at  the  dinner 
hour. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

PROTRACTED  meeting  opened  with  favorable  weather.  Ar- 
rivals from  neighboring  towns  were  numerous  and  encour- 
aging. Smart  young  theologians,  with  a  sprinkling  of  venerable 
clergy,  had  reached  the  scene  on  the  Saturday  previous,  to  lighten 
the  burdens  of  the  resident  pastor.  The  latter  superannuated  class, 
grown  gray  in  the  service,  were  skilled  anatomists  of  the  soul. 
They  could  place  a  finger  on  every  fibre  of  the  human  heart.  They 
could  play  upon  the  emotions  with  the  facile  skill  of  a  Mozart  or  a 
Bethoven,  on  ivory  keys.  They  buoyed  weak  souls  to  life  and 
hope,  or  dashed  them  to  despair.  They  settled  accounts  for  the 
laity  with  the  terrible  God,  and  gave  them  satisfactory  receipts 
from  His  upper  courts. 

Sleighs  of  all  kinds,  with  curious  varieties  of  lading,  dashed  up 
to  the  double  green  doors  of  the  church.  Rawny  pairs  of  work- 
horses tore  up,  panting,  and  throwing  their  heads  from  side  to  side, 
as  if  they  brought  the  sins  of  the  town. 

The  long  sheds  were  at  length  packed  with  quaintly  painted 
sleighs,  double  and  single  ;  bob-sleds  add  pungs.  One  looking  at 
the  scene,  within  and  without,  would  say  a  German  ScJmtscnfest 
had  been  inaugurated  in  the  wrong  era,  and  blossomed  in  the 
wrong  season. 

Drifts  of  Carries,  Lotties,  Emmas,  Minnies,  Katies,  Lizzies,  Bellas, 
Etties,  Amies  and  'Rias  sifted  in  around  the  great  box  stove.  There 
was  a  breezy  tossing  of  ribbons,  arranging  of  furs,  and  sinister 
glances  at  others'  toilets.  Blue  eyes,  black  eyes,  and  hazel,  flashed 
covertly  athwart  the  square  old  pews  up  to  the  lumbering  galleries, 
in  quest  of  Willies,  Charlies,  Georges,  Thodies,  Joes,  Sammies  and 
Harries,  whose  melting  orbs  were  reciprocally  prepared  for  this 
expected  battery.  Magnetic  influences  quivered  in  the  air  at  this 
early  opening  hour,  which  already  auspiciously  bore  a  confused 
semblance  to  the  very  gate  of  Heaven. 


82  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

There  came  also,  in  quilted  hoods  and  heavy  cloaks,  the  real 
church  lights  ;  some  from  other  towns  —  holy  women,  who  have  an 
eye  single  to  God's  glory  —  Patience  Leving,  from  Windboro  :  she 
buried  her  lover  in  boyhood's  grave,  and  had  rarely  smiled  since. 
Prudence  White,  from  "  Society  Hill ;  "  she  had  served  the  Lord 
faithfully  ten  years  in  the  Feejee  Islands,  till  her  husband  had 
fallen  a  prey  to  the  unnatural  climate;  and  she  had  seen  four  little 
graves  under  a  bread-fruit  tree,  in  which  her  own  heart  had  been 
buried  four  separate  times.  By  this  heavenly  discipline  she  was 
prepared  "to  work  for  God"  the  sole  remnant  of  her  days.  Finally, 
Charity  West  —  a  monstrosity  of  tears,  prayers  and  sighs  —  cut 
out  for  an  angel  about  forty  years  since,  and  fully  developed  ac- 
cording to  the  popular  pattern,  by  a  life  of  single  blessedness. 

These  three  were  on  the  ground  to  uphold  the  hands  of  the 
priesthood,  in  their  proper  sphere  outside  of  the  public  altar.  They 
were  gifted  in  prayer,  and  resolute  in  grace.  They  could  conduct 
female  prayer-meetings  when  the  clergy,  fatigued  with  other  labors, 
were  refreshing  themselves  over  mugs  of  hot  sling  and  cider,  and 
discussing  the  interests  of  Zion  in  a  more  general  and  comprehen- 
sive manner.  They  could  also  lead  in  singmg,  carry  hymns  through 
alone  in  shrill  voices,  amid  the  sobs  and  tears  of  those  under  their 
charge.  They  understood  symptoms  at  the  different  stages  of  con- 
viction and  conversion ;  they  gave  the  proper  warning  or  consola- 
tion at  each  point  of  progress.  Being  of  thin,  wiry  figures,  they 
bent  more  easily  over  the  despairing  to  cry,  "  Believe  !  believe!" 
Without  discomfort,  they  could  stand  for  a  longer  period  persuad- 
ing the  more  contumacious  to  "  keep  nothing  back  from  God,"  but 
to  "give  Him  all."  These  helpers  received  hospitality  at  the  houses 
of  the  minister  and  church  officials  ;  rarely  w^ith  the  laity. 

There  is  an  aphorism,  "A  work  well  begun  is  half  done."  On 
that  principle,  this  revival  was  already  a  success.  The  attendance 
was  large.  During  the  two  sermons  and  noon  prayer-meetings 
costumes  and  faces  were  mutually  scanned,  and  a  tacit  understand- 
ing of  the  status  of  each  individual  was  established.  At  the  close 
of  the  day's  exercises,  Claras  were  assigned  to  Lizzies,  Lotties 
slipped  home  with  Bellas,  Etties  claimed  sweet  Minnies,  lovely 
"Rias  embraced  and  bore  away  gentle  Katies. 

In    the    second   series,  Willies  were  invited  home  by    Harries, 


»t> 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  83 

Charlies  put  up  with  Eddies,  and  Joes  drove  their  own  "  teams  " 
up  to  the  doors  of  the  Georges.  Patience  Leving  occupied  a  cham- 
ber at  the  doctor's,  a  few  steps  only  from  church.  Her  lungs  were 
delicate.     Long  cold  rides  comported  not  with  her  duty. 

Prudence  White,  the  bosom  friend  of  Mrs.  Steele,  was  "sabined" 
off  by  that  lady. 

On  Tuesday  morning,  Henry,  Sultan  and  Czar  called  at  Mrs. 
Beame's  for  Fanny.  He  brought  a  note  to  Richard,  from  Edmund 
Stone,  a  former  classmate,  now  at  Andover.  The  note  begged 
Richard,  for  the  love  he  bore  to  souls,  to  come  up  to  Cloudspire 
to  labor  with  the  "  impenitent." 

Richard's  interest  in  the  great  gathering  was  increased  by  his 
sympathy  for  his  deformed  "  chum."  Edmund  was  a  hunch-back 
from  birth;  and  the  intensity  of  his  piety  was  in  an  inverse  ratio 
to  the  square  of  a  hunch-back's  ciistance  from  upright  humanity. 
Therefore,  he  seemed  not  to  belong  to  this  rolling  sphere.  ^  His 
meditations  and  speech  were  of  the  next  two  worlds.  His  visions 
were  telescopic ;  and  the  church  militant  saw  his  tent  of  observa- 
tion pitched  upon  her  loftiest  watch-towers. 

Among  Fanny's  anticipations,  since  the  invitation,  had  been  the 
ride  to  Mary  Steele's,  and  the  daily  going  to,  and  returning  from 
the  church,  a  distance  of  three  miles  —  and  the  very  essence  of 
these  anticipations,  was  the  proud  beauty  of  Czar  and  Sultan. 

With  that  thought,  she  asked  Richard's  permission  to  sit  on  the 
front  seat  with  Henry. 

"  What  now  ?  "  he  replied.  "  The  horses  ?  go  on  then.  I  can 
sit  by  myself." 

In  silence  and  happiness  beyond  words  for  a  time  her  eyes  saw 
no  other  objects ;  their  figures,  movements,  nimble  feet,  graceful 
limbs,  their  glossy  manes  blown  in  the  wind,  and  their  curving 
necks  were  to  her  evidences  of  the  attributes  to  their  Creator.  She 
made  more  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  divine  Artist,  from  that 
living,  moving  sculpture.     She  asked  herself, — 

"  Of  what  likeness  was  He  ?  What  power  was  that,  to  fashion 
such  beautiful  animals,  and  endow  them  with  this  exultant  life? 
Surely  those  creatures  must  be  sparks  of  His  own  mysterious 
nature  ;  they  must  be  the  embodiment  of  His  own  royal  thoughts. 
What  splendid  toys  for   an   indulgent   Father  to   bestow  upon  His 


84  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

children.  How  she  adored  Him.  What  could  she  do  for  such  a 
being  ? "  An  inner  voice  answered,  "  Nothing  but  love  Him." 
That  she  did  love  and  adore  Him,  she  was  sure.  He  seemed  so 
near  to  her  now.  She  was  in  His  very  studio.  Everything  that 
met  her  gaze  was  sacred,  from  His  touch  and  finish.  She  would 
now  set  herself  to  learn  from  God's  people  how  to  serve  Him  ac- 
ceptably. 

Richard,  scanning  Henry's  thread-bare  coat  and  tattered  sleeves, 
broke  the  reverie  by  asking  Henry  why  he  did  not  wear  the  warm 
clothing  xMrs.  Beame  gave  him } 

"  I  am  waiting  for  Miss  Fanny  to  come  up." 

"What  has  that  to  do  with  it,  Henry?  See,  your  hands  are 
nearly  bare." 

"  I  did  put  on  the  overcoat  and  boots  Sunday  morning,  after  the 
horses  were  harnessed ;  but  when  I  came  in  the  kitchen,  the  dea- 
con and  his  wife  questioned  me  about  the  way  I  got  them.  I  ex- 
plained it  all ;  but  they  said  I  must  acknowledge  that  I  took  them 
from  the  missionary  box  when  the  ladies  were  away." 

William  Steele,  the  Southerner,  said, — 

"  A  thief  would  lie,  and  it  is  as  much  the  nature  of  niggers  to  do 
both,  as  for  birds  to  fly  in  the  air." 

"  I  went  to  my  room  and  put  on  my  rags  again,  till  the  witness 
comes.  I  am  poor,  and  ignorant,  sir  j  I  cannot  help  that.  But  I 
am  not  a  thief ;  I  can  help  that." 

*'  Oh  me  !  that  was  too  cruel  !"  said  Fanny,  as  she  sat  sidewise  to 
look  from  one  to  the  other.  "  That  spoiled  all  your  comfort  in  the 
clothes,  Henry." 

"  It  didn't  anger  me,  for  I'm  used  to  such  ways  ;  don't  expect 
nothing  else ;  but  I'll  drive  you  to  meeting  in  them,  to-morrow 
morning." 

"Yes,  you  will,  that  is  quite  sure!  or  Fanny  Beame  don't  go 
herself." 

"Fanny,"  said  her  brother,  with  a  bit  of  chiding  in  the  tone, 
"  Charity  covereth  a  multitude  ot  sins  !  Zeal  in  morals  may  over- 
leap the  mark,  and  the  motive  be  very  good  withal." 

"  But  they  won't  lef  our  charity  cover  up  their  sins.  Mother  and 
you  gave  the  clothes,  but  they  won't  allow  him  to  wear  them. 
Henry  is  forever  ragged,  forever  cold,  forever  called  a  thief  and  a 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  85 

nigger.  What  kind  of  charity  can  cover  such  sins  ?  "  and  her  hand 
flourished  before  her  brother,  with  a  wonderful  oratorical  display. 
"  And  as  to  zeal,  Richard,"  she  continued,  "you  always  say  my  zeal 
must  be  tempered  with  knowledge." 

A  triumphant  nod  ended  that  sentence.  A  suppressed  smile 
warmed  up  the  would-be  reproving  face  of  Richard,  at  the  sharp- 
shooter's aim.     To  free  himself  from  her  quizzing  eyes,  he  said, — 

"  There's  Cloudspire  church,  Fanny.  Turn  about  now  \  the  bell 
strikes  for  afternoon  service." 

Reverence  for  God,  and  His  worship,  hushed  all  vexatious 
thoughts.  She  walked  meekly  to  the  deacon's  pew,  scarcely  lifting 
her  eyes,  whence  every  trace  of  indignation  had  disappeared. 
"  This  is  His  house,"  she  reflected,  "I  have  come  into  this  glorious 
Presence."  Humiliation  was  a  pleasure.  Yet  the  brown  square 
pews,  the  bare  aisles,  the  naked,  staring  windows,  gave  her  the  pain- 
ful idea  that  the  gifts  of  the  church  to  the  One  who  robed  the  earth 
in  all  its  beauty,  and  who  was  Beauty  himself,  were  penurious  in 
the  extreme.  He  should  have  a  magnificent  temple,  adorned  with 
gold  and  precious  stones." 

Her  eyes  caught  sight  of  the  "  Steele"  Bible,  clasped  with  gold, 
lying  on  its  purple  velvet  cushion,  and  the  heavy  gilt  tassels  drop 
ping  from  the  corners.  That  was  as  it  should  be  —  right  royally 
planned,  as  became  the  great  King.  By  association,  the  silver  font 
came  up  in  her  reflections.  She  had  never  looked  upon  its  mar- 
velous workmanship,  but  had  heard  its  praise  from  many  ;  of  the 
three  angels  brooding  over  the  flowery  rim,  and  gazing  into  the 
water  it  contained,  as  if  to  change  its  nature  to  the  wine  of  everlast- 
ing life.  Also  of  their  wings,  spread  as  if  they  had  dropped  down, 
in  their  celestial  flight  through  the  upper  blue.  She  was  moved  by 
the  reverence  that  such  sacred  and  appropriate  symbols  should  in- 
spire. She  longed  for  the  hour  when  the  water  from  this  sanctified 
vessel  of  the  Lord  should  seal  her  acceptance  with  Him,  and 
establish  her  communion  with  his  people. 

The  usual  stirring  among  the  women,  of  cloaks,  shawls,  and  foot- 
stoves  \  a  flutter  of  white  handkerchiefs  among  the  girls ;  and  a 
round  of  hems  and  haws  from  the  men  of  the  assembly,  announced 
the  ascent  to  the  pulpit. 

The  Rev.  Augustus  Johns,  from  a  neighboring  city,  preached  from 


86  WHTIE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

Joel  ii.   I.     "  Blow  ye  the  trumpet  in  Zion  :  sound  an    alarm  in   my 
holy  mountains:  let   all  the  inhabitants  of  the   land  ttemble:  for 
the  day  of  the  Lord  cometh,  for  it  is  nigh  at  hand."     In  the  exor- 
dium, the  attention  of  his  hearers  was  powerfully  arrested.     A  shud- 
dering   attention    hung   upon    his    sentences.     He    pursued    the 
frightful  tenor  of  the  chapter.     He  portrayed  the  terrible  quakings 
of   the  earth,   when    lofty  mountains,  piercing  the  skies,  should  be 
siezed  with  spasmodic  convulsions  ;  when  long  ranges  of  towering 
peaks,   should  rock  on  their  bases,  and  jostle   against  each   other, 
like  storm-swept  waves;  when  whole  cities  should   totter  on    their 
foundations,  and  with  one  grand,  reverberating  crash,  lie  level  with 
the  ground.     He  depicted  the  ocean,  loosed  from  the  restraint  of 
its  natural  laws ;  the  thundering  of  its  clashing  tides  ;  the  lashing  of 
its  angry  billows  against  a  "  day  of  darkness,"  a  "  day  of  darkness 
and  gloominess  ; "  "  a  day  of  cloudiness,  and  thick  darkness,"  when 
"  the  sun  should  turn  to  blackness,  and  the  moon,  stricken  by  Al- 
mighty   Power,  should    turn    to    blood."      He   dilated    upon    the 
trifling  effort  of  God's  wrath,  necessary  to  the  swift  annihilation  of 
worlds  ;  worlds  which  He  had  created  with  a  breath  ;  worlds  which 
His  word  of  command  had  willed  out  into  space,  as  easily  as  soap- 
bubbles  are  blown  into  the  air.     He  drew  forth  his  watch  and  held 
it  in  view  of  the  astounded  audience.     "  What  are  the  sun  and 
moon  ?     In  one  of  these  briefest  moments  of  time  called  into  exist- 
ence :  in  another  of  these  briefest  moments,  extinguished,  erased." 

He  took  breath.  He  wiped  away  drops  of  seeming  agony  from 
his  face,  harrowed  by  these  direful  contemplations.  He  raised  a 
glass  of  water  to  his  lips,  ran  his  long  fingers  though  a  standing 
shock  of  red  hair,  which  seemed  to  have  caught  the  spirit  of  flames  ; 
the  reflection  of  a  terrific  conflagration  of  all  things  earthly.  In  a 
low,  guttural  voice,  like  muffled  thunder,  he  proclaimed  this  day  of 
the  Lord  near  at  hand.  "  It  may  overwhelm  you,  this  very  week  ! 
this  very  day  !  Who  can  foretell  this  awful  hour  ?  Seasons  and 
events  are  in  His  hands  alone,  whose  omnipotent  finger  first  moved 
the  great  pendulum  of  Time  !  The  inhabitants  of  the  land  should 
tremble.  You,  my  hearers,  should  abhor  yourselves  in  sackcloth 
and  ashes.  You  should  fall  upon  your  knees,  and  supplicate  par- 
don, v;hich  the  knell  of  Time  will  render  forever  too  late." 

The  linenments  of  his  face  became  distorted  ;  he  wrung  his  hands 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  8  7 

over  the  audience.  He  cried  with  hideous  incoherency,  "This  day 
of  God's  wrath,  how  near  !  Think  of  an  offended  God  !  Think  ! 
I  beseech  you.  He  taketh  vengeance  upon  His  enemies.  In  this 
disruption  of  worlds,  breaking  upon  us,  even  as  it  were  at  this  mo- 
ment, there  will  be  no  Savior.  His  atonement  will  have  ceased." 
This  frenzied  peroration  brought  his  subject  to  a  most  appalling 
close.  The  congregation  bowed  with  terror  and  gloom.  Sobs, 
groans  and  tears,  dolefully  mingled.  The  great  actor  himself, 
shaken  like  a  leaf  over  his  own  work,  stepped  down  from  the  pulpit, 
weeping. 

Fanny,  wondering  at  herself,  remained  unmoved.  There  were 
no  tears  in  her  eyes,  nor  fear  in  her  heart.  She  doubted  the  pro- 
priety, of  selecting  a  text  from  the  Pagan  past,  for  the  conversion  of 
a  quiet  country  people,  in  these  days  of  Christian  grace.  Her  nature 
recoiled  from  the  picture  of  savage  ferocity,  with  which  the  Rev. 
Johns  endowed  the  loving  All  Father.  A  small  rebellion,  arose  in 
her  soul  against  the  speaker,  his  oratory,  and  even  against  his  Judg- 
ment Day  ;  which  ended  by  her  saying  in  her  heart,  '•  I  don't  believe 
it.  I  doubt  if  he  believes  it  himself."  -To  her,  the  old  church  looked 
dreary.  The  glorious  Presence  had  departed.  She  felt  alone  in  a 
prison-nouse,  among  panic-stricken  companions. 

The  inquiry  meeting  followed.     Sanctimonious  women  convoyed 
hesitating  relatives  to  the  "  anxious  seat."     Middle  aged  men,  who 
had  audaciously  *'  held  out  against  the  Lord  "  for  years  "  went  for- 
ward."    The  action  of  natural  forces  impelled  others.     They  arose 
in  pairs  "  affinities."    Harry  of  Windboro,  descended  from  the  gal- 
lery walked  slowly  up  the  aisle ;  and  Katie  of  Cloudspire,  left  a  pew 
below,  following.     Minnie  stepped  from  her  father's  pew   by    the 
stove,  with  her  veil  down,  and  a  handkerchief  to  her  eyes ;  simul- 
taneously, Eddie,  from  Society  Hill,  arose  in  the  north-east  corner, 
and  passed  on  with  drooping  head  to  a  seat  beside  her.     Lottie, 
lingering  nearly  to  the  last,  arose,  slender  as  a  calla  lily,  standing 
undecided  by  her  seat,  with  disheveled  curls,  and  downcast  eyes ; 
till  Rev.  Luther  Winfield,  the  "  lovely  young  minister,"  came  from 
the  altar,  and  in  his  own  pleading  hand  took  hers,  leading  her,  half 
blinded  by  confusion,  to  a  comfortable  seat.     It   was  his   official 
privilege  to  retain  that  hand  ;  to  sit  beside  her,  pointing  to  the  "Lamb 
of  God,  that  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world."     While  rendering 


88  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

this  professional  service,  however  he  fondly  believed  in  his  heart 
no  sin  had  ever  stained  the  purity  of  her  blossoming  soul. 

Thus  the  seats  were  filled.  Tears  flowed  afresh.  The  Deity  was 
solemnly  implored,  to  look  upon  the  depraved  and  agonized  group 
at  His  altar.  His  vengeance  and  mercy  ;  His  hatred  and  love. 
His  jealously  and  forebearance,  were  learnedly  rehearsed  before 
Him,  as  if  God,  were  an  enigma  to  Himself.  The  implacable  Je- 
hovah, was  flattered,  cajoled,  admonished  and  reprimanded.  The 
"  mourners  "  were  presented  to  the  Throne,  as  divine  images,  and 
as  reprobates  ;  as  immortals,  and  as  dying  worms  ;  as  penitents,  and 
as  incorrigibles. 

At  intervals,  the  plaintive  wailings  of  old  Bangor,  China,  Funeral 
Thought,  and  Judgment  Hymn,  surged  over  the  stricken  company, 
like  voices  from  the  tombs  j  as  if  the  very  dead,  were  calling  from 
their  graves. 

From  these  incongruous  elements,  there  came  forth  a  grotesque 
variety  of  those  singular  cwiositics  of  the  age,  denominated  "  Chris- 
tians." The  conversions  formed  a  genus,  of  which  the  species 
differed  as  widely,  as  the  legerdemain  tricks  of  the  prestidigiator,  al 
though  produced  by  the  same,  or  a  similar  art.  There  are  eggs 
fried  in  a  hat,  cooing  doves  soaring  from  a  boiling  pot,  handkerchiefs 
extracted  from  a  loaf  of  bread,  and  stolen  silver  coin  dropping  from 
the  sleeves  of  honest  men.  Thus,  each  species  of  the  gems  ''  con- 
version," possessed  certain  peculiar  characters  differing  from  each 
other.  They  were  conformable  to  no  model,  or  draft,  except  to  the 
mysterious  credenda  of  the  illimitable  space,  and  the  eternity  be- 
yond human  ken. 

"  Remarkable  conversions  ;  said  a  gray-haired  gentleman  to  an- 
other ;  chafing  his  palms  together  with  exultation.  "  The  Lord's 
hand  is  not  shortened  that  it  cannot  save." 

Simon  Link,  the  drover,  lifted  his  weather-beaten  face,  and  said 
calmly,  "  Peace !  all  is  bright  as  the  sun."  But  this  was  not  the 
work  of  Rev,  Augustus  Johns.  Fear  had  no  place  in  Simon's 
heart  —  he  had  driven  his  herds  in  the  face  of  uprooting  hurri- 
canes j  he  had  slept  soundly  on  the  ground  o'nights,  when  the 
black  earth  was  chained  to  darkness  by  jagged  lightnings.  His 
joy  was  the  effect  of  Sunday's  pastoral  sermon,  by  good  old  Father 
Lanson,  from   the   text,  "  I  am  the  good  Shepherd."     Since   then, 


WHITE   MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  89 

gentle  undefinable  thoughts  of  being  folded  himself,  filled  his  re- 
flections. He  would  rest  somewhere,  the  "  green  pastures,"  and 
"still  waters"  of  God's  love  appeared  to  him  incomparably 
beautful. 

A  few  low,  delicious  tones  of  tender  enquiry  in  Lottie's  ear  by 
the  Rev.  Luther  Winfield,  was  answered  by  glad  tidings,  I  am  very 
happy,''  a  striking  coincidence  with  his  own  feelings.  This  grati- 
fying fact,  he  duly  proclaimed  for  her  ;  as  woman  was  still  subject 
to  Paul.  Then  taking  the  dear  hand  in  hisj  he  led  her  to  her  fa- 
ther's sleigh  in  waiting  at  the  door. 

Eddie  rose  up,  and  spoke  for  himself,  expressing  the  assurance 
that  he  had  found  Christ  j  that  he  should  now  renounce  the  world, 
and  its  deceptive  pleasures.  He  closed  by  asking  prayers  that  he 
might  be  a  bright  and  shining  light,  and  lead  many  souls  to 
Heaven. 

The  Rev.  Stone  inquired  the  state  of  Minnie's  feelings.  He 
bent  over  her,  and  received  the  whispered  replied,  "  I  think  I  have 
found  the  Pearl  of  great  price  ;  "  whereupon  he  declared  this  addi- 
tional trophy  with  devout  satisfaction.  Minnie  was  nearly  fainting ; 
he  advised  her  to  retire.  Eddie  offered  his  sleigh  and  himself ,  to 
take  his  new-found  treasure  to  quieter  scenes.  It  was  a  millen- 
nial sight,  the  manner  in  which  his  strong  arm  supported  the 
young  convert,  while  her  head  drooped  upon  his  regenerated 
shoulder,  on  the  way  home. 

It  was  conceded  throughout  Cloudspire,  that  the^  greatest  tri- 
umph of  grace  was  seen  in  the  conversion  of  the  rich  Mr.  Bud- 
dington.  It  had  been  devoutly  wished  for  years,  that  he  might  be 
enrolled  among  the  church,  as  in  that  case,  his  great  wealth  would 
be  sanctified  to  evangelical  purposes. 

To  their  great  joy,  there  he  stood  ;  enveloped  in  his  fur-lmed 
broadcloth  overcoat  —  "a  monmment  of  divine  mercy."  In  his 
own  words,  he  had  revolved  the  subject  for  two  years.  During 
recess  to-day,  in  a  providential  interview  with  William  Steele,  from 
South  Carolina,  that  gentleman's  wide  Christian  experience  had 
opened  a  way  for  his  feet.  He  should  with  thankfulness  regard 
him  as  the  more  direct  instrument  in  the  hands  of  God,  of  his  clear 
and  satisfactory  conversion. 


^O  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

Mr.  William  Steele  was  then  called  upon  to  offer  the  closing 
prayer,  after  which  the  old  brown  church  was  deserted. 

Dr.  Clarendon  lived  near  the  "  meeting  house,"  just  across  the 
green.  Both  he  and  his  wife  desired  to  do  honor  to  the  town's 
distinguished  guest  from  the  South.  Therefore,  Mrs.  Clarendon 
begged  the  favor  of  Mr.  Steele's  company  for  that  night ;  suggest- 
ing that  he  should  not  be  too  partial  in  his  visits  among  the 
town's  people.  He  accepted  with  the  finished  courtesy  of  the 
Southerner,  whose  manners  he  studied  to  imitate,  at  once  offering 
his  arm  to  his  hostess.  The  doctor's  wife  was  but  slightly  im- 
pressed with  the  solemnities  of  the  week ;  therefore  her  intercourse 
was  marked  by  her  natural  gaiety. 

The  professions  of  Medicine  and  Theology  in  Cloudspire  were 
two  aristocracies  ;  each  with  its  distinct  armorial  bearings,  and 
separate  as  the  "  houses  of  York  and  Lancaster."  The  doctor  de- 
clared his  supremacy  over  the  church,  by  saying;  — 

"They  can  neither  live  nor  die,  without  me.  I  have  to  bring 
them  into  this  world,  and  see  them  safely  out  of  it.  Further- 
more," he  added,  "believers  profess  to  remove  mountains  by  faith 
and  prayer,  when  they  cannot  remove  mole-hills  without  my  ipecac 
and  paregoric." 

A  loud,  hearty  laugh  followed  these  flippant  assertions,  accom- 
panied with   the  winding  of  his  nasal    horn  in  a  red    silk  bandana. 

Dr.  Clarendon's  halls  and  apartments  were  more  tropical  in  fur- 
niture than  those  of  their  neighbors.  Warm,  bright  colors  mingled 
in  carpets.  Massive  shining  brass  andirons,  and  scalloped  brass 
fenders,  adorned  marble  hearths.  Curtains,  red  as  poppies,  were 
caught  up  on  milk-white  glass  rosettes.  Mirrors  leaned  over  the 
mantels,  which  were  copies  of  Egyptian  marble. 

Lucy,  the  only  child,  was  the  pride  of  her  father.  Her  home 
was  her  Paradise  ;  for  between  her  and  the  young  people,  there 
was  a  great  gulf.  There  was  no  approximation  of  familiarty  or 
affection.  On  their  part,  they  were  icebergs,  loosed  from  their 
moorings ;  and  Lucy  was  a  violet  palm  island  in  a  sunny  sea.^ 

A  contest  of  ribbons,  and  colors  was  secretly  carried  on  in  the 
dressing  chambers,  and  band-boxes  of  the  town-maidens,  said 
dressing  chambers,  and  band-boxes  being  ever  on  the  defensive 
against^Lucy,  the  aggressor.     In  the  spring,  the  hue  of  her  ribbons 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  9 1 

and  dress  was  borrowed  from  the  dandelions  and  apple-blossoms, 
with  the  delicate  greens  of  a  new-born  foliage.  By  the  time  these 
colors  were  fairly  in  a  successful  reign,  and  the  church  of  a  Sunday 
seemed  one  grand  spring  bouquet,  Lucy  walked  up  the  aisle  in 
midsummer,  habited  as  if  a  piece  of  heaven's  blue  had  fallen  upon 
her,  coloring  gloves,  streamers,  and  dress.  Chambers,  and  band- 
boxes fell  out  again  with  the  doctor's  daughter,  and  took  to  practising 
wicked  extortions  from  missionary  funds  and  savings-banks,  till  the 
church  lawn  and  square  grim  pews  blossomed  in  the  coveted  ceru- 
lean. In  autumn,  Lucy's  golden  browns,  crimsons  and  dusky 
greens,  baffled  jealousy.  She  was  scarcely  distinguishable  from 
the  brilliantly  tinted  leaves  that  showered  about  her  morning  and 
evening  walks. 

The  mill-owner's  son,  down  at  Alderbank,  had  her  name  on  his 
list,  and  drove  his  prancing  turnout  past  the  doctor's  on  many  a 
summer  day,  yet  never  drew  a  rein.  He  frequently  saw  her  face 
framed  in  the  arch  of  the  red  curtains,  like  a  saint,  set  in  the 
stained  glass  of  cathedral  windows.  Its  purity  rebuked  him  ;  and 
he  only  carried  that  picture  away,  in  his  memory. 

The  doctor  was  a  dread  to  the  unlearned  j  inasmuch  as,  like  St. 
Peter,  he  jingled  the  keys  of  life  and  death.  He  dealt  in  techni- 
calities ;  he  hurled  Latin  and  knotty  physiological  terms  about 
him  with  overwhelming  effect,  chuckling  with  enjoyment  over  his 
frightened  patients.  Formidable  and  unheard  of  diseases  held 
high  carnival  in  his  circuit. 

Thus,  between  the  doctor's  playful,  and  bombastic  ambiguity, 
and  the  war  of  the  band-boxes,  his  daughter  was  left  to  waste  her 
sweetness  on  the  Cloudspire  air. 

Supper  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  master  of  ceremonies  but  a 
short  time.  A  dose  of  volubility,  studded  with  uproarious  laughs, 
set  every  patient  right.  Without  recourse  to  saddle-bags  for 
drops,  or  powders,  pain  was  soothed,  and  nerves  were  calmed. 
The  doctor  put  his  patients  in  good  humor,  bade  them  take  a  good 
night's  rest,  and  returned  home. 

The  supper  was  a  true  New  England  institution.  Roast  turkey, 
roast  pig,  a  round  of  beef,  sweetmeats,  pickles,  boiled  custards, 
loaf  cake,  cream  and  mince  pies. 

Hester,    a    very    black    woman,  and   her    son,    a  bright-looking 


92  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

brown  boy,  waited.  Roland  was  bidden  by  Mrs  Clarendon  to 
stand  at  the  back  of  Mr.  Steele's  chair  —  a  surprise  and  an  honor 
quite  pleasing  to  that  gentleman.  Roland  changed  Mr.  Steele's 
plates,  stepping  back  to  his  post  every  time  with  the  precision  of  a 
cadet ;  while  the  doctor  himself  passed  the  viands  to  the  others. 
Roland  handed  coffee  and  dessert  with  a  bow,  and  was  duly  re- 
warded by  that  personage  with,  "  Splendidly  done  !  my  fine  fel- 
low," a  pat  on  his  head,  and  a  silver  half  dollar.  At  the  close  of 
the  meal,  Mr.  Steele  again  gallantly  offered  his  arm  to  the  lady 
hostess,  and  the  dining-room  was  left  to  Hester's  care. 

Roland  was  allowed  time  to  admire  the  bright  silver  piece,  which 
he  turned  first  oneway,  and  then  another,  in  the  light  of  the  tall  pink 
wax  candles,  still  standing  on  the  table.  He  held  it  over  his  head, 
dancing  round  and  round  upon  one  foot,  till  a  jealous  chair 
tripped  him  up.  The  floor  caught  his  treasure  from  his  hand,  and 
the  thieving  ashes  hid  it.  He  hallooed  lustily,  and  rescued  it  from 
the  brigands,  whirling  it  upon  the  table  to  hear  its  warbling  ring. 
He  said  to  Hester, — 

"  Mother!  what's  this  bird  on  here,  with  sticks  in  his  claws  ? " 

"That's  the  American  Eagle,  my  son.     It  means  freedom  !  " 

"  What  does  this  woman  hold  on  her  cane .''  A  cap  }  Why  don't 
she  put  it  on  her  head } 

"  Oh  ?  that's  a  cap  of  Liberty  !  A  woman  must  not  wear  that. 
She  holds  it  for  the  gentlemen." 

*'  How  much  will  this  money  buy,  mother  ?  —  a  pair  of  shoes  for 
me,  and  a  shawl  for  you  ? " 

"  No,  Roland,  it  would  not  buy  even  a  pair  of  shoes  for  you  ; 
but  its  a  nice  present.  You  earn  money  faster  than  I  do.  I  have 
to  work  three  days  and  a  half  for  a  half  dollar." 

"  Where  are  your  half  dollars,  mother  ?  —  I  never  saw  one 
before." 

"  You  have  one  on  your  back,  the  price  of  an  old  coat,  to  make 
over  for  you.  Then,  there's  a  little  tea  and  sugar  in  the  paper  at 
home,  and  a  small  piece  of  soap  ;  there's  another  fifty  cents  —  and 
so  on." 

Perfectly  happy,  and  unconscious  of  the  curse  awaiting  his  pret- 
ty brown  face  —  merely  because  it  was  brown  —  he  took  up 
Hester's  poor,  sorrowful  words,  and  sang  up  and  down  the  house, 


WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK    JUNE.  93 

"And  SO  on,  and  so  on,  and  so  on  j "  and  then  outdoors  he  sang 
to  the  stars,  "  And  so  on,  and  so  on,  and  so  on." 

Entering  again  briskly,  he  said  to  his  mother, — 

"  Shall  I  wait  on  the  gentleman  to-morrow  ?  and  if  I  do,  will  he 
give  me  more  silver  money  ?" 

Just  then  the  burly  doctor,  preceding  Mr.  Steele,  and  grand  in 
the  spasmodic  curves  of  the  upper  lip,  stiffened  to  the  highest 
degree,  passed  through  the  dining-room  to  the  office  —  a  little  green 
blinded  box  on  the  south-east  corner  of  the  house  - —  wherein  a 
stove  kept  up  its  purring  noise  through  the  winter  days.  A  large 
arm-chair,  the  dread  of  aching  teeth,  embraced  the  pompous  master. 
A  red  lounge,  whereon  were  accustomed  to  recline  the  pains,  debil- 
ities, derangements,  nervous,  and  other  complaints,  acute  and 
chronic,  put  on  its  state  manners,  and  gracefully  surported  Mr. 
Steele. 

The  doctor  wound  a  nasal  horn  in  the  red  bandana,  kept  his  eyes 
on  the  polite  lounger  who  dreamily  followed  the  smoke-rings  of  his 
cigar,  and  thought  it  would  be  pleasant  to  dissect  a  Southerner. 
Yet  he  was  awkwardly  aware,  that  to  make  a  "  nattomy  "  of  that 
subject  required  a  metaphysical  manoeuvering,  for  which  he  doubted 
his  own  ability. 

There  is  often  a  strange  similarity  between  currents  of  thought 
in  two  individuals.  William  Steele  was  arranging  initiatory  steps 
for  analyzing  the  doctor.  "  Why  should  I  hesitate,"  he  thought, 
"  even  on  this,  my  first  visit  ? "  I  knew  the  family,  before  I  left  the 
North.  Pshaw  !  it's  no  more  than  a  business  transaction.  I  have 
made  merchandise  of  human  nature  too  long,  to  halt  now.  I  have 
trafficked  in  just  such  beings  as  make  up  that  protracted  meeting, 
with  only  the  difference  of  color. —  By  Jove,  I  like  color  !  Lucy, 
can't  come  any  nearer  an  angel  than  my  Isabel.  But  that's  neither 
here  nor  there." 

He  puffed  the  smoke  of  his  cigar  slowly  ;  the  rings  were  perfect. 

"  I  have  come  North  for  a  wife ;  and  if  my  coming  has  not  been 
preceded  by  John  the  Baptist,  it  has  been  heralded  by  a  baptismal 
Font ;  which  in  Cloudspire,  is  the  same  thing.  I  know  my  prestige 
and  power,  and  will  proceed  at  once  with  my  purpose." 

Lucy  Clarendon  answered  his  requirements.  She  was  fresh  and 
fine  looking  ;  her  features  bore  the  impress  of  culture  and  thought. 


94  WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

She  was  not  foolishly  shy,  nor  awkwardly  confused.  Her  style  was 
dignified,  and  distinguished  by  a  lady-like  self  possession.  On  the 
whole,  she  would  reflect  credit  upon  himself,  on  his  return  to  '  Le 
Grand  Palais."  He  regarded  woman  as  one  of  man's  earthly 
possessions,  and  accordingly,  began  his  negotiations. 

He  led  conversation  adroitly  up  to  this  question,  "  Will  you  per- 
mit me,  doctor,  to  call  your  attention  to  a  subject,  which  weighs 
heavily  upon  my  thoughts  ^  " 

"  I  am  ai  your  service,  sir,"  replied  the  genial  host. 

"  Pardon  my  abruptness  ;  but  it  seems  best  to  begin  at  the  root 
of  the  matter.  I  came  North  with  the  intention  of  marriage  ;  to 
carry  back  with  me  as  the  solace  of  my  loneliness  in  that  state,  a 
companion.  I  have  made  my  choice,  and  with  frankness,  I  entrust 
you  with  the  happy  secret,  —  you,  as  the  proper,  and  lawful  guardian 
of  the  one  I  hold  most  dear.  I  bring  my  suit  before  you  first. 
Most  unwittingly  perhaps,  your  peerless  daughter  Lucy,  has  taken 
me  captive.  If  you  have  objections,  sir,  to  my  presenting  the  sub- 
ject before  her,  I  shall  most  sadly  obey.  If  my  preference  meets 
with  your  approbation,  I  shall  impatiently  await  the  hour  to  learn  my 
fate  from  her  own  lips." 

An  immedi3.te  use  of  the  bandana ;  a  short,  well  timed  silence, 
and  the  doctor  replied, — 

"  I  must  acknowledge,  Mr.  Steele,  you  have  divulged  a  delicate 
state  of  affairs.  I  am  at  a  loss  what  to  answer  to  this  sudden  sum- 
mons. True  I  have  always  remembered  that  the  time  would  probably 
come,  when  my  Lucy's  affections  must  be  transferred  from  myself 
to  another,  and  I  have  desired  that  when  my  arm  should  cease  to 
shield  her,  she  should  be  doubly  protected  by  that  other.  In  your- 
self, sir,  I  see  an  eligible  offer,  so  far  as  report  goes  ;  personally,  I 
have  had  no  information  as  to  your  prospects,  although  I  have  every 
reason  to  believe  they  are  more  than  desirable." 

Mr.  Steele  rose  from  the  lounge,  and  paced  the  floor  as  if  in  a 
mental  chaos  of  hope  and  fear.  He  drew  from  his  pocket-book 
three  papers,  and  extended  them  to  the  doctor,  that  he  might  judge 
for  himself  of  his  financial  outlook. 

The  first  paper  was  the  agreement  as  overseer  of  the  plantation, 
"Le  Giand  Palais" 

The  doctor  read, — 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  95 

"  Be  it  remembered  that  it  is  agreed  between  Frederick  Fairland,  by  Francis 
Elliott,  his  attorney,  on  the  one  part,  and  William  Steele,  on  the  other  part,  ni 
manner  following,  that  is  to  say  :  The  said  William  Steele  agrees  from  the  iirst 
day  of  January,  1S3 — ,  to  the  first  day  of  January,  183 — ,  to  oversee  the  planta- 
tion of  the  said  Frederick  Fairland,  called  "Le  Grand  Palais,"  and  to  overlook 
the  plantations  of  the  said  Fairland  called  the  "Nile,"  "Staple,"  "Success" 
and  "  Snowfield ;  "  and  the  negroes,  stock,  barns,  mills,  and  every  species  of 
property  of  the  said  Fairland,  thereon,  in  a  planter-like  manner,  with  skill,  care, 
fidelity,  ability  and  humanity ;  and  to  the  utmost  of  his  power  to  oversee,  over- 
look, and  manage  the  same  in  the  best  manner  for  the  interest  of  said  Frederick 
Fairland  ;  and  the  said  William  Steele  may  at  the  expense  of  the  said  Fairland 
employ  three  overseers  for  the  said  plantations,  and  turn  them  away  at  his  pleas- 
ure ;  provided  that  the  wages  of'said  overseers  sh^U  not  exceed  three  hundred 
dollars  per  annum  for  the'  one,  nor  one  hundred  and  fifty  per  annum  for  the 
other  two.  In  consideration  whereof,  the  said  Fairland,  by  his  attorney  afore- 
said, agrees  to  allow  and  to  pay  to  the  said  William  Steele  at  the  expiration  of 
the  said  term,  the  full  sum  of  nine  hundred  dollars  ;  also,  one-third  of  the  in- 
crease of  the  hogs,  and  half  the  increase  of  the  poultry.  Also,  to  be  allowed  to 
keep  two  horses,  and  moderately  feed  them,  and  to  be  found  in  a  reasonable 
quantity  of  coffee  and  sugar,  a  plantation  beef,  and  likewise  a  negro  wench  to 
cook  and  wash  for  him,  and  two  boys  to  wait  on  him  and  to  be  sent  on  the  busi- 
ness of  the  plantations. 

In  witness  whereof,  the  said  parties  have  set  their  hands  this  Seventeenth  day  of 
December,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord,  One  Thousand  Eight  Hundred  and  Thirty. 

Frederick  Fairland, 
By  his  Attorney,  Francis  S.  Elliott, 

William  Steele. 

The  second  paper  was  a  Bill  of  Sale  of  "  Marquis.  " 

Bill  of  Sale.—  Printed  by  J.  C.  Walker. 

State  of  South  Carolina. 

Know  all  men  by  these  presents.  That  I,  Mordecai  Heartson,  for  and  in  con- 
sideration of  the  sum  of  One  Thousand  Dollars  to  me  in  hand  paid  by  William 
Steele,  at  and  before  the  sealing  of  these  presents,  (the  receipt  whereof  I  do 
hereby  acknowledge),  have  bargained  and  sold,  and  by  these  presents  do  bar- 
gain, sell  and  deliver  to  the  said  William  Steele,  a  negro  man  slave  named  Mar- 
quis, to  have  and  to  hold  the  said  negro  man  slave  unto  the  said  William  Steele, 
his  executors,  administrators,  and  assigns  to  his  and  their  only  proper  use  and 
behoof  forever  ;  and  I,  the  said  Mordecai  Heartson,  m.y  executors  and  adminis- 
trators, the  said  bargained  premises,  unto  the  said  William  Steele,  his  executors, 
heirs  and  assigns,  from  and  against  all  persons  shall  and  will  warrant,  and  for- 
ever defend  by  these  presents. 

In  witness  whereof,  I  have  hereunto  set  my  hand  and  seal.  Dated  at  Charles- 
ton, on  the  twenty-seventh  day  of  January,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord,  One  Thou- 


q6  white    may,    and    black    JUNE. 

sand  Eight  Hundred  and  Thirty .  and  in  the  fifty year  of  the  Independ- 
ence of  the  United  States  of  America. 

MORDECAI  HEARTSON. 
Signed,  sealed  and  delivered  in  the  presence  of  ISea/] 

JAMES  JESNEY. 

The  doctor,  not  the  least  wearied,  unfolded  the  third  paper,  and 
as  he  read  silently,  his  upper  lip  took  on  a  spasm  of  importance 
and  gratification.  The  document  was  a  bill  of  sale  of  Binah  and 
her  two  children,  Flora  and  Sarah.  It  was  the  deed  of  William 
Steele's  property,  lawfully  certified  and  registered,  in  the  proper 
official  department  at  Charleston.     It  read  thus  : 

Bi//  of  Sale.^  Printed  by  P.  Hoff. 

The  State  of  South  Carolina, 

Know  all  men  by  these  presents,  That  I,  Edward  M.  Doom,  for  and  in  con- 
sideration of  the  sum  of  one  thousand  dollars,  to  me  in  hand  paid,  at  and  before 
the  sealing  and  delivery  of  these  presents,  by  William  Steele,  (the  receipt 
whereof  I  do  hereby  acknowledge),  have  bargained  and  sold,  and  by  these 
presents  do  bargain,  sell,  and  deliver  to  the  said  William  Steele,  Binah  and  her 
two  children.  Flora  and  Sarah,  to  have  and  to  hold  the  said  slaves,  with  their 
future  issue  and  increase,  unto  the  said  William  Steele,  his  executors,  adminis- 
trators and  assigns,  to  his  and  their  only  proper  use  and  behoof,  forever.  And 
to  the  said  Edward  M.  Doom,  my  executors  and  administrators,  the  said  bar- 
gained premises  unto  the  said  William  Steele,  his  executors,  administrators  and 
assigns,  from  and  against  all  persons  shall  and  will  warrant,  and  forever  defend, 
by  these  presents. 

In  witness  whereof  I  have  hereunto  set  my  hand  and  seal.  Dated  at  Charles- 
ton, on  the  twenty-sixth  day  of  September,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  One  Thous- 
and Eight  Hundred  and  Thirty ,  and  in  the  fifty year  of  the  Independ- 
ence of  the  United  States  of  America. 

EDWARD  M.  DOOM. 

Signed,  sealed  and  delivered  in  the  presence  of  \L.  S.\ 

THO.  N.  GARDNER. 

After  a  careful  perusal  of  said  printed  documents,  which  gave  an 
air  of  stability,  of  law  and  order,  quite  pleasing  to  the  reader's 
mind,  the  doctor  remarked, — 

"  I  am  more  than  satisfied,  sir,  with  the  papers  ;  I  regard  them 
as  the  corner-stone  of  your  future  independence." 

"  Thank  you.  You  observe  in  the  last  paper,  the  '  Bill  of  Sale,' 
that  the  future  increase  of  Binah  and  her  children  are  mine  also.'* 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  97 

"  I  have  heard,"  said  the  doctor  "  that  the  race  is  prolific  ;  and 
if  so,  that  must  be  a  source  of  rapid  income  to  owners." 

"  Yes,  that  is  true  in  the  main.  Binah  has  already  brought  me 
a  fine  male  child ;  and  perhaps  before  my  return,  will  add  still 
another.  Binah  is  of  a  superior  breed.  She  was  imported  from 
Africa,  direct  from  the  '  Gold  Coast.'  Came  over  in  the  slaver 
*  Black  Cruiser,'  in  the  last  part  of  the  year  1815.  She  is  hardy 
and  docile,  seldom  needs  the  whip,  and  works  like  a  mule." 

"  What  is  the  value  of  children,  Mr.  Steele  ?" 

"  Usually,  fifty  dollars,  as  soon  as  born  ;  according  to  size  and 
soundness.  At  a  year  old,  one  hundred  ;  and  so  on.  The  oldest 
girl  will  soon  yield  me  a  profit  in  that  line.  In  less  than  one 
year's  time  she  will  be  fourteen  years  old  ;  I  got  her  age  from  her 
master.     She  is  a  mulatto." 

"  I  suppose  you  have  not  yet  purchased  land.  How  then  do  you 
dispose  of  your  slaves  }  " 

"  Hire  them  out,  sir.  Binah  works  rice  for  sixty  dollars  a  year, 
and  supports  her  own  children.  I  am  at  no  expense  whatever. 
They  must  continue  to  clothe  themselves.  ]\Iarquis  I  purchased  in 
Charleston,  on  the  'table.'  He's  worth  twelve  hundred  dollars; 
but  owing  to  a  suspected  partiality  of  his  mistress  for^  him,  he  was 
put  up  for  sale,  and  she  was  taken  to  France.  He  is  a  fine  mu- 
latto fellow,  and  a  prime  mechanic.  I  rented  him  on  the  spot  for 
twenty  dollars  a  month." 

"  I  am  convinced,"  said  the  doctor,  "  that  no  part  of  our  Union 
opens  such  avenues  to  wealth  as  the  South." 

"  That  is  my  opinion,  sir  ;  although  a  man  starting  without  means 
may  not  often  be  so  fortunate  as  myself.  I  have  the  full  confidence 
of  Mr.  Fairland,  who  leaves  all  his  affairs  to  me,  and  therefore 
grants  privileges  which  in  other  cases  would  be  withheld." 

"  You  make  the  most  of  Yankee  calculation,  I  see,"  remarked 
the  doctor,  with  a  consequential  laugh.  "  Marquis  brings  you  two 
hundred  and  forty  dollars  a  year.  Binah  and  daughter  at  two  births 
a  year,  two  hundred ;  and  Binah  herself,  rented  at  sixty,  makes  a 
net  incoiPiC  of  five  hundred  dollars  a  year  ;  and  then  there  is  no 
toiling,  or  sweat  of  the  brow  over  such  revenue." 

"  I  confess  I  have  nothing  to  complain  of,  in  adverse  fortune  ; 
but  doctor,  material  possessions  do  not  satisfy  the  heart."     Here 


98  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

William  drew  his  snowy  handkerchief  covertly  across  his  eyes,  zs  if 
tears  were  expected.  He  sat  down  with  well  dissembled  humility, 
adding,  "  I  look  upon  the  pure  home  affections  as  the  desideratum 
of  man's  happiness.  Without  these,  man's  life  is  a  desert —  a  bar- 
ren Sahara,  whith  may  be  traversed  by  camels,  bearing  the  gold  of 
Ophir,  and  the  pearls  of  Indian  seas.  It  may  be  one  grand 
thoroughfare  of  Arabian  spices  and  perfumes,  and  remain  a  desert 
still,  the  pathway  of  gold,  and  pearls,  and  spices  effaced  from  its 
sands  by  the  sighs  of  solitude  and  discontent." 

A  flourish  of  the  doctors  bandana  sufficed  for  the  exclamation 
point.  He  assented  to  the  truth  of  Mr.  Steele's  remarks,  observing 
emphatically, — 

"  Marriage  is  a  divine  ordinance.  Its  blessings  are  the  rarest 
that  Heaven  bestows  upon  a  fallen  world.  In  marriage,  the  aft'ec- 
tions  become  anchored.  The  fruits  of  that  union  are  the  highest 
pledges  of  man's  happiness  on  earth.  The  unselfishness  of  paren- 
tal solicitude  for  children  is  a  source  of  unadulterated  joy." 

This  harmonious  flourish  of  sentiments  brought  a  benign  ex- 
pression to  each  face.     ]\Ir.  Steele  resumed, — 

"You  understand  me  now,  sir  ;  my  early  days  —  my  present  finan- 
ces; and  as  to  principles,  why'  Cloudspire  has  ever  had  my  moral 
and  religious  nature  under  inspection.  I  shall  not  remain  longer  than 
one  week  from  next  Monday.  There  is  a  necessity  for  an  early 
announcement  of  my  wishes.     Shall  I  meet  mercy,  or  refusal .'' " 

Both  gentlemen  sought  appropriate  refuge  in  silence.  The  doc- 
tor resolved  to  meet  this  urgent  request  with  becoming  dignity;  al- 
though a  glow  of  exultant  joy  was  creeping  to  the  very  tips  of  his 
fingers. 

"  Surprising  !"  he  said  to  himself.  "  Lucy  to  marry  ease,  ser- 
vants, mocking-birds,  magnolia-blossoms,  and  orange- groves  !  Lucy 
to  travel  far  away  to  these  possessions  in  waiting  !  Lucy  to  be. 
conie  the  white  lamb  of  Mr.  Steele's  manly  and  tender  care." 

His  lip  took  on  its  old,  important  cuil,  and  he  finally  gave  the 
suppliant  his  hand. 

"  I  do  not  feel  at  liberty  to  refuse  my  daughter  the  free  exercise 
of  her  own  feelings  in  this  case.  You  have  my  warmest  wishes, 
and  unqualified  assent.  However,  allow  me  to  meet  her  first  with 
her  mother,  to  prepare  them,  sir,  for  this  unexpected  proposition. 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK  JUNE.  99 

If  your  appeal  meets  with  favor,  I  will  leave  you  to  press  your  suit 
with  the  dear  girl  herself." 

Dr.  Clarendon  pressed  the  hand  he  held  warmly,  and  returned 
to  the  parlor. 

After  a  few  moments  the  office  door  opened,  and  Hester  glided 
in  unobtrusively  to  the  stove.  She  replenished  it  with  wood,  and 
began  brushing  up  the  hearth,  quietly  kneeling  before  her  work. 
Suddenly  she  felt  ner  head  drawn  back  ;  a  pair  of  warm  hands,  one 
on  each  side  of  her  head,  held  her  in  that  position  ;  a  pair  of  glit- 
tering black  eyes  bent  over  her  ;  a  black  beard  swept  her  forehead, 
and  a  swift  kiss  was  left  on  each  cheek.  Then  a  strong  left  arm 
glided  round  her  waist,  raised  her  to  her  feet,  and  held  her  there  in 
its  encircling  clasp.  Before  her  eyes,  in  William  Steele's  right  hand, 
there  shone  a  silver  half  dollar.  Bewildered,  she  neither  accepted 
nor  refused  it.  While  releasing  herself  from  his  embrace,  he  again 
lifted  her  chin,  and  flashed  his  glittering  eyes  into  hers.  Kissing  her 
forhead,  and  he  said, — 

"  Take  it,  Hester.  A  touch  of  your  velvet  face,  and  a  look  into 
your  soft  eyes,  is  worth  double  the  money." 

With  her  hand  upon  the  latch  of  the  door,  she  spoke  angrily, 
regaining  her  strength. 

"  I  am  poor  and  needy,  sir ;  but  I  have  lived  long  enough  to 
understand  insult !  I  am  not  a  slave,  sir  !  I  entered  this  office  by 
Mrs.  Clarendon's  order.     Shall  I  expose  this  treatment  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not,"  he  replied  eagerly.  "  These  affairs  are  not  to 
be  spoken  of.  If  you  love  your  young  lady.  Miss  Lucy,  you  will 
preserve  silence." 

"I  do  love  and  respect  her,"  said  Hester. 

"  Then  take  this  money  and  go,"  he  urged  hurriedly. 

For  an  instant  she  thought  of  her  poverty,  took  the  piece,  and 
immediately  left  the  room. 

Soon  after,  the  doctor  looked  into  the  office,  and  simply  said, — 

"  This  way,  sir." 

For  a  half  hour,  the  family  group  in  the  parlor  discussed  the 
revival ;  Edmund  Stone,  the  hunch-back ;  the  climate  of  South 
Carolina ;  and  the  bills  of  mortality  in  Charleston.  Finally,  Dr. 
and  Mrs.  Clarendon  withdrew,  leaving  Lucy  to  the  charming  of  her 
lover,   Mr.    Steele.     It  was   evident   to   that   lover,   that  he  must 


lOO  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"charm  never  so  wisel3\"  A  false  step  would  imperil  his  plans. 
Lucy's  color  glowed  and  paled  like  changing  rubies.  Restraint 
somewhat  stiffened  her  manner  ;  her  eyes  burned  hazel  in  the  fire- 
light. The  Douglas  plaid  of  her  dress  lacked  the  waving  sheen 
of  her  natural  animation  ;  it  froze  into  statuesque  folds.  A  book  of 
engravings  was  open  on  the  table  at  her  side. 

William  asked  coolly, — 

"Are  you  fond  of  pictures,  Miss  Clarendon  ?" 

"  Quite  so ;  but  in  landscapes,  I  should  prefer  the  originals. 
Nature  herself  is  more  attractive  to  me  than  her  representatives." 

"  Pictures  are  a  fine  substitute,  when  means  and  leisure  are 
wanting  for  travel  ;  and  they  also  preserve  the  inspiring  lineaments 
of  the  noble  and  beloved.  I  think  I  have  learned  to  esteem  them 
more  highly,  by  the  study  of  Mr.  Fairland's  gallery,  at  '  Le  Grand 
Palais.'  Our  small  town  here,  offers  no  works  of  arts.  Her  hills 
and  rivulets  were  all  I  had  previously  studied." 

Lucy  began  to  feel  more  at  her  ease,  and  asked, — 

"  Does  your  forest  scenery  South,  differ  materially  from  ours  ?  " 

"  Very  materially.  Our  Carolina  live  oaks,  veiled  with  moss, 
are  objects  of  great  attraction  —  intensely  unique  in  their  growth. 
Our  pines  are  tall  and  sparse  —  one  may  ride  in  any  direction 
throusrh  the  forests.  At  "this  season  thev  are  filled  with  warm 
hazy  sunlight,  and  bird-songs,  instead  of  chilly  snows." 

Forgetting  shyness  in  thought  of  sun-lighted  pines,  her  eyes 
raised  in  the  old  manner,  and  she  remarked,  smilingly, — 

"  How  delightful  these  must  be." 

"  They  are  so,  I  assure  you.  Miss  Clarendon;  but  to  me,  they  lack 
the  charm  of  companionship.  I  have  been  led  to  say  with  Sel- 
kirk,— 

'  O  Solitude  !  where  are  the  charms, 
That  sages  have  seen  in  thy  face.' 

An  appreciating  taste,  enlivening,  and  directing  my  own,  would 
be  invaluable." 

•'  You  have  the  society  of  planter's  families,  I  suppose  ?  I  hear 
they  are  a  highly  refined  and  cultured  class." 

"  Yes,  truly  so;  but,  Miss  Clarendon,  pardon  me,  I  referred  to  a 
nearer  interest  than  that  of  the  neighbor  or  casual  visitor.     Allow 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  lOI 

me    to  say,  that  such  a  mentor  as  yourself  would  make   celestial 
bowers  of  live-oaks;  elysium  of  pine  forests." 

A  slight  trembling  of  the  hand  on  the  book,  a  rapid  lot)k  into 
the  firelight  ensued.  Lucy  observed,  "I  am  not  accustomed  to 
such  compliments,  Mr.  Steele.     I  feel  myself    totally  unworthy-." 

'•  Far  more  unworthy  am  I  to  indulge  such  an  aspiration, 
for  one  who  is  grace  and  purity  itself.  But  there  are  moments  in 
life,  when  the  human  soul  is  fearless  —  when  it  risks  self-respect, 
and  the  golden  opinion  of  another,  for  a  purpose  which  hurls  every 
other  suggestion  to  oblivion." 

He  gently  laid  his  hand  on  the  white  tremulous  thing,  nestling 
among  the  pictures.  Scarce  knowing  how,  or  why,  she  withdrew 
her  hand  from  its  shelter. 

'^Oh!  leave  me  not!  thou  white  dove  of  hope!"  he  murmured 
piteously.  —  "  Return  over  the  troubled  waters  of  my  spirit,  and 
bring  the  green  olive  branch  !  — '"  Tenderly  he  raised  the  hunted 
hand  to  his  lips.  No  word  of  hers  relieved  the  silence  —  like  a 
frightened  bird,  which  cannot  raise  its  wings,  her  speech  v/as  para- 
lyzed. He  knelt  before  the  maiden  upon  one  knee,  and  bowed  his 
head  despairingly.  He  begged  permission  to  lay  before  her  the 
exquisite  torture  and  felicity  of  the  present  moment.  "Would  his 
entreaties  offend  her?  —  Might  he  dare  to  unveil  to  her  the  uncon- 
trollable tempest  of  his  soul .''  ". 

Lucy  gathered  strength  from  his  weakness,  and  found  in  her 
heart,  strong  sympathy  for  his  distress.  She  bade  hiai  rise  —  she 
would  hear  all !  Then  her  brain  whirled,  and  for  a  moment,  the 
firelight  darkened.     She  supported  herself  upon  the  table. 

His  chair  was  beside  hers  —  he  held  her  hand  in  his. 

"  Miss  Clarendon !  I  am  an  humble  suppliant  for  your  sweet 
mercy !  Since  I  first  gazed  upon  you,  I  have  been  your  captive. 
I  am  soon  to  return  South.  Here  to-night,  I  mu  st  learn  from  your 
lips  an  unspeakable  joy  or  an  utter  despair.  Through  all  this  week, 
although  I  have  endeavored  to  lend  my  aid  in  the  great  revival  of 
our  church,  you  have  come  between  me  and  God.  —  While  I  knelt 
before  Him,  my  spirit  bowled  before  yoii.  The  dear  image  of  your 
beauty  rose  above  all  else.  Wlierever  I  walked,  _)w/  flitted  on  be- 
fore me.     Wherever  I  sat  jw/  were  beside  me." 

His  voice  sank  into  humility  itself.    "  Alas  !  unfortunate  omen  1 


I02  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

—  the  light  of  your  countenance  turns  from  me  —  my  vehemence 
pains  you.  Oh !  how  heedlessly  have  I  crushed  the  flower  I  would 
fain  gather  to  my  breast !  " 

Again  he  reverentially  raised  the  hand  to  his  lips,  and  retained  it 
more  lightly,  still  clinging  to  it  however,  as  a  drowning  man  might 
grasp  helplessly  a  white  water  lily  —  his  only  safety.  He  said  no 
more,  but  sat  apparently  repentant.  Lucy  had  turned  partially 
away  to  rest  her  forehead  upon  her  other  hand.  At  length  she 
addressed  him, — 

"  Mr.  Steele,  I  am  rather  a  suppliant  at  your  hands  —  I  am 
speechless  before  you  !  I  am  not  a  coquette,  to  utter  lightly  false, 
and  wounding  words.     Grant  me  time  to  reflect." 

"  God  bless  you  for  this  !  —  that  you  do  not  strangle,  at  once,  my 
nascent  hopes ! " 

He  relinquished  her  hand  and  arose,  saying, — 

"My  cruel  impetuosity  has  unnerved  you — I  will  retire  for  a 
time.  But  there  are  many  reasons  why  I  venture  to  beg,  that  at 
an  early  moment  I  may  receive  some  assurance  of  your  favor.  If 
my  stay  could  be  extended  for  days,  or  if  I  were  to  reside  here 
months,  your  own  sweet  will  should  be  mine;  —  if  indeed,  I  might 
look  upon  you  every  week,  and  feel  that  your  dear  presence  was 
near ! " 

He  went  out  beneath  the  cold  starry  sky.  Never  before  in  her 
life  had  Lucy  felt  so  lonely  as  when  the  door  shut  William  Steele 
from  her  sight.  And  wherefore .?  —  She  was  a  riddle  to  herself. — 
She  seemed  suddenly  to  have  come  upon  a  Celestial  City,  whose 
gilded  turrets,  and  graceful  spires  were  bathed  in  serenest  blue ; 
an  amethystine  gate  seemed  left  ajar  for  her  to  open.  She  longed 
to  enter  the  purple  portal  amid  the  glories  beyond.  But  how 
could  she  swing  the  precious  barrier  aside !  She  felt  herself  a 
mere  child.  What  enchanting  words  she  had  heard.  How  exqui- 
isitely  delicious  did  they  still  echo  in  her  ear,  thrilling  her  with 
rapture.  But  ah  !  it  could  not  be  a  reality.  She  was  accustomed 
to  an  insiduous  coldness  outside  of  her  family,  coloring  courtesies 
and  civilities.  Why  did  Mr.  Steele  select  her  among  a  world- 
full  of  other  attractions  ?  Could  she  leave  father,  and  mother, 
the  home  of  her  childhood,  and  depart  with  a  stranger,  hith- 
erto?     Did   she   love   him.^      She    could   not  analyze    this   new 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  103 

array  of  emotions ;  this  spell  of  his  presence  causing  her  to  tremble 
like  an  aspen  leaf;  this  oppressive  sense  of  desertion  in  his  ab- 
sence ;  this  unaccountable  longing  for  his  return.  Visions  of  her 
forest  walks,  her  favorite  wild  flowers,  the  purling  brooks,  and  her 
rocky  seats  flashed  into  memory.  Could  she  leave  them  to  go  so 
far  away  .'*  Strange !  they  appeared  desolate  now,  unless  his  foot- 
steps should  wander  there  with  hers.  Yet,  she  could  not  expose 
her  perplexity  to  him  ;  and  he  had  besought  an  immediate  answer. 
The  tumult  of  her  thoughts,  hopes,  and  regrets  would  not  be  stilled. 

She  placed  the  brands  together  on  the  hearth  ;  smoothed  her 
hair  before  the  long  mirror  on  the  mantel.  Whom  did  she  see 
there  ?  Surely  not  Lucy  Clarendon.  In  the  place  of  the  ani- 
mated self-poised  features  that  ever  before  had  been  reflected  to 
her  view,  there  were  tearful  and  pleading  eyes — a  physiognomy 
from  which  every  shade  of  pride  and  spirit  had  vanished,  and 
given  place  to  a  saintly  abnegation  of  self.  To  an  observer,  there 
would  have  been  an  indescribable  charm  in  the  softened,  saddened 
light  that  overspread  the  face. 

Still  wandering  among  these  distracted  thoughts,  marveling  at 
the  change,  and  the  revelations  of  the  evening,  another  face  took 
its  place  in  the  mirror  with  hers. —  Mr.  Steele's  entrance  had  not 
been  noticed.  A  sudden  flash  of  pleasure  thrilled  every  nerve.  She 
suffered  herself  to  be  led  to  the  sofa  —  a  pleading  voice  again  be- 
sought her  decision.  The  amethystine  gate  was  ajar,  awaiting  only 
her  touch.     She  hesitated,  trembled,  and  pronounced  her  fate. 

If  you  consider  me  worthy  your  esteem  and  confidence,  I  am 
only  too  happy  in  that  choice." 

He  caught  her  to  his  breast.  He  kissed  her  brown  hair,  ex- 
caiming, — 

"Thank  God  !  mine  forever  !  Ah  !  my  darling  Lucy!  true  love 
sees  no  unworthiness,  it  hears  of  no  blemish,  asks  for  no  extenua- 
tions, has  no  doubts,  or  fears.  All  these  are  incompatible  with  its 
Divine  effluence.  Blessed  hour !  which  consummates  my  fondest 
desires.  Do  you  consent  to  leave  all  for  me  ?  to  become  the  light 
of  my  far  off  Southern  home?  Repeat  it,  my  sweet  angel!  is  it  in- 
deed a  realitv?  " 

"  I  shall  find  home  and  happiness  in  your  presence,  wherever 
that  may  be." 


I04  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

William  Steele  tenderly  raised  the  drooping  head  of  the  trusting 
girl ;  wiped  away  her  tears  with  delicate  tenderness,  murmuring  in 
broken  sentences,  "Thank  God!  Joy  unspeakable!  Mine  for- 
ever ! " 

In  the  season  of  ecstatic  stillness  which  followed,  the  leafless 
lilacs  outside,  groping  with  benumbed  fingers  against  the  house, 
said  to  her  heart,  ''  Stay  with  us  !  stay,  stay."  The  red-berries,  bob- 
bing against  the  window-panes,  warned  the  fascinated  girl,  by  their 
mysterious   knockings,  "Go  not,  Lucy  !  —  no,  no,  Lucy  !  —  go  not." 

Wednesday  morning  opened  a  new  era  in  the  Clarendon  family. 
A  genial  complaisance  shed  a  mellowing  grace  over  words  and 
deeds.  At  the  breakfast  table,  Roland  officiated,  as  usual,  at  the 
back  of  Mr.  Steele's  chair ;  receiving  another  half  dollar.  Smok- 
ins:  hour  in  the  office,  resulted  in  referring  all  arrano:ements  to  the 
judgment  and  wishes  of  the  honored  guest. 

In  the  parlor,  Mrs.  Clarendon  met  her  future  son-in-law  with  a 
warm  maternal  welcome.  On  his  part,  he  was  profuse  in  affection- 
ate apologies  for  so  suddenly  robbing  her  of  the  light  of  the  house- 
hold. 

Bedewing  with  a  few  becoming  tears  the  smiles  of  her  ill  con- 
cealed pride  in  Lucy's  triumph,  she  replied;  "I  am  highly  flat- 
tered, sir,  by  the  honor  of  your  choice.  Lucy  is  onr  darling.  But 
we  have  raised  her  with  the  usual  expectation  that  her  blossoming 
beauty  was  maturing  for  the  joy  and  possession  of  another.  She 
has  been  raised  in  the  seclusion  of  Cloudspire,  as  the  anemone 
springs  up  amid  of  forest  shadows.  Her  mind  is  purity  itself 
free  from  all  taint  of  an  artificial  world  ;  but  whatever  of  natural 
and  feminine  graces  may  adorn  her  character,  I  most  freely 
consign  them  to  your  keeping.  They  are  her  only  jewelb.  When 
I  yield  her  to  your  devoted  tenderness,  sir,  I  feel  that  she  is  dow- 
ered with  what  is  more  necessary  to  woman's  existence,  than  aught 
else  —  a  husband's  faithful,  and  abiding  love." 

Les  affiances  enjoyed  the  remainder  of  the  morning  alone,  dis- 
cussing the  early  marriage,  and  departure. 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  IO5 


CHAPTER  VII. 

'"T^HE  sleeper's  head  turned  in  the  hollow  of  the  downy  pillows. 
JL  Soft  laces  trembled,  rose  and  fell,  like  snow-wreaths,  wind- 
lifted  from  their  native  banks.  A  pair  of  dark  eyes  opened  lan- 
guidly on  the  pleasantly  shaded  room  —  eyes  quiet  as  the  chamber 
itself,  clouded  only  by  the  drifting  mist  of  vanishing  dreams.  The 
proud  mouth  gathered  up  its  relaxed  curves,  and  the  spiritless  voice 
called,  "  Zoe !" 

Like  a  statue  springing  into  life,  the  girl  glided  to  the  bed  ;  her 
smiling  lips  replied, — 

"  I  am  here,  my  dear  miss." 

♦'  What  is  the  hour  ?  " 

The  maid  turned  to  the  exquisite  device  on  the  marble  shelf,  and 
said, — 

"  Birdie  holds  '  ten  '  in  his  beak ;  he  has  just  taken  it.  Miss 
Gracie !" 

On  this  shelf — itself  a  fine  relic  from  the  ''Eternal  City,"  — 
was  a  clock,  which  measured  the  charmed  air  of  the  chamber  into 
golden  hours  for  its  favored  occupant.  A  bird  of  Paradise  picked 
up  from  the  heart  of  a  rose,  golden  figures,  indicating  these  hours, 
and  dropped  them  successively  upon  the  bosom  of  an  azure  sea, 
whence  they  floated  from  sight. 

"  Has  mamma  risen  ? " 

"  Two  hours  since,  miss  !  "  replied  the  attendant ;  then  fell  to 
adjusting  the  fine  linen,  and  lace  of  her  mistress'  couch.  "  She  has 
ordered  coffee,  with  strawberries  and  cream  for  you,  and  bade  me 
beg  you  to  continue  your  rest  and  sleep,  after." 

A  quick  ring  of  the  bell  brought  James  to  the  door  directly,  with 
a  silver  salver  burdened  with  the  lady's  own  silver  morning  service. 
A  dewy  nosegay,  freshly  culled,  lay  beside  the  scarlet  berries. 
James  knew  hov/  to  put  together  the  morning  bouquet,  in  a  manner 
to  suit  the  most  fastidious  of  the  familv.  The  maid  knew  her 
duties  as  well :  —  the  exact  amount  of  Mocha  to  be  poured  into  the 


Io6  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

French  china  cup, —  just  the   quantity  of  cream  and   sugar  to  be 
added  to  the  strawberries. 

When  this  was  accomplished,  Zoe  carried  the  salver  to  the  bed 
of  her  mistress  ;  offered  spoons  and  napkins  smoothed  the  inequali- 
ties and  balanced  the  rebellious  waiter,  taking  airs  upon  itself  for  high 
breeding.  After  the  refreshment,  she  made  the  pillows  more 
downy,  gave  their  frills  a  lesson  of  propriety,  and  placed  the  roses 
thereon.  She  rang  for  James,  met  him  on  tip  toe  at  the  door, 
closed  it  noiselessly,  and  sat  down  again,  a  statue,  till  sleep  should 
return  to  her  young  mistress  in  sweet  visions  and  dreams. 

Although  a  slave,  Zoe  enjoyed  the  luxury  about  her  ;  the  elegant 
appointments  of  her  mistress'  bed  chamber  were  her  pride.  She 
felt  an  ownership  with  Gracie  Mowndes  in  all  the  charming  sur- 
roundings. The  morning  air,  wafting  in  through  the  blinds 
sweet  garden  odors,  was  as  pleasant  to  her  as  to  Grace  ;  and  the 
bird  of  Paradise  held  golden  hours  in  his  beak  for  Zoe  as  well. 

She  had  not  to  sit  long.  She  arose  noiselessly,  took  a  white 
handkerchief,  passed  it  over  marble  tops  here  and  there,  and 
scrutinized  it  carefully  at  the  blind.  Faultlessly  neat !  There  was 
no  dust  upon  it  for  Grade's  keen  eye.  She  then  began  gliding 
about  from  bureau  to  wardrobe,  and  from  wardrobe  to  bureau, 
rustling  dresses  here,  inspecting  ribbons  and  laces  there,  till  an  ele- 
gant morning  toilet  was  laid  out,  ready  at  her  hands.  Finally,  a 
small  pair  of  satin  slippers,  with  jeweled  buckles  glittering  in  ihe 
narrow  sunbeam  on  the  carpet,  were  placed  by  the  bed,  and  Zoe 
dropped  into  her  chair. 

In  a  short  time,  the  mistress  called  again,  "Zoe"!  There  was 
more  life,  and  crispness  in  the  word  this  time.  The  maid  gave  a 
glance,  a  spring,  and  an  answer  in  a  breath  1  "  Miss  Gracie  !  bir- 
die has  just  taken  '  eleven  '  from  the  rose  !  " 

"  I  shall  sleep  no  more  !     Dress  me." 

While  both  were  yet  in  the  mysteries  and  intricacies  of  the  dress- 
ing room,  there  came  a  lively  tap  at  the  chamber  door.  Grace, 
after  a  merry  laugh,  cried, — 

"  Ah  !  I  know  you  !  Thrice  welcome,  Leonore  !  Zoe, —  turn  the 
kev ! " 

A  young  lady  entered  gaily,  in  a  costly  and  elaborate  walking- 
dress,  of  which  she  appeared  not  the  least  conscious.     With  a  fore- 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  I07 

finger  raised  for  emphasis,  she  paused  before  Gracie.  "  Ah,  you 
naughty,  naughty  one  !  Not  dressed  yet?  This  is  one  of  our  most 
delicious  spring  mornings!  Ale  levante  al  salir  del  Sol !  Have  you 
forgotten  all  your  Spanish  ?  The  air  is  violet  !  The  long  vistas  of 
our  streets  wear  their  sweetest  haze.  Oh,  Gracie  !  I  feel  ethereal- 
ized  —  ready  to  float  away  among  the  clouds." 

"  Zoe,  attend  upon  Leonore,'  said  Grace. 

"Zoe  !  dress  your  mistress  immediately  !"  was  the  quick  refort  ; 
while  she  removed  her  hat  without  aid,  and  drew  off  her  gloves. 

Gracie  uttered  a  little  scream,  raised  both  hands,  and  asked  the 
hurried  question, — 

"  Pray  !  what  is  that  on  your  hand,  Leonore  1 " 

This  brought  out  a  peal  of  gay  laughter  from  the  person  ad- 
dressed. Leonore  would  laugh  audibly,  wdth  naive  disregard  to 
conventional  rules.     She  answered, — 

"  Just  nothing  at  all,  Gracie  !  —  slight  scratches  from  the  thorns 
of  our  rose  shrubbery.  I  drove  old  '  Joe  '  out  of  the  garden,  and 
cut  the  bouquet  myself.  Mamma  was  shocked,  of  course  —  but 
you  know,  dearie,  it  is  the  style  here,  for  every  one  to  feel  her 
nerves  tingling  at  some  unpropitious  fancy  or  another  !  —  Now,  my 
love,  how  are  you,  after  the  ball  ? " 

"Delightful  !  Leonore  !  of  course  the  gayety  and  exhilaration  of 
of  such  a  pageant  is  ever  pleasing  ;  but  more  elevated  attractions 
swayed  the  concourse  of  last  night !  —  The  god-like  presence  of 
our  Calhoun!  —  the  noble  majesty  of  Governor  Hayne  !  —  the 
brilliant  gathering  of  Southern  statesmen  from  other  States,  were 
imposing  to  a  Carolinian,  or  to  any  other  true  Southron,  who  holds 
our  interests  paramount.  You  know  the  ladies  of  the  South  do  not 
lack  patriotism." 

"  Yes,  I  know  ;  but  let  me  congratulate  you  on  having  had  the 
honor  of  a  promenade  on  the  arm  of  'Jupiter  Tonens ! '  said 
Leonore." 

"  Gracias !  The  escort  of  any  of  the  crowned  heads  of  the 
kingdoms,  and  empires  of  Europe,  would  not  have  been  so  high  an 
honor,  as  that  promenade  with  Calhoun  !  —  Kings  and  emperors 
but  second  the  designs  of  their  Cabinets  !  In  national  policy,  Cal- 
houn's foot  ever  treads  the  pioneer's  path  alone.  His  declarations 
are  a  law  in  themselves." 


Io8  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  My  clear  Grade  !  you  should  have  seen  yourself,  there  !  —  I  de- 
clare !  I  thought  myself  in  Rome,  in  the  days  of  her  ancient  glory. 
You  seemed  a  'Vestal  Virgin,'  wrapped  in  reverence,  and  devotion, 
—  the  2:uardian  of  the  sacred  Palladium  of  Southern  Riiihts." 

"AhT'  replied  Gracie  with  a  sigh,  *' willingly  would  1  become 
so.  But  it  would  be  revolting  to  my  nature  to  hold  these  continual 
controversies  with  that  Northern  people.  They  are  of  baser  blood, 
and  as  persistent  as  all  ignorance  is.  We  are  of  honorable  birth 
in  the  old  country.  These  adverse  elements  will  not  assimilate. 
It  was  a  mistake,  this  union  of  South  Carolina  and  Georgia  with 
the  other  States,  after  the  Revolutionary  War,  at  the  framing  of  the 
Constitution.  They  should  have  seceded  then,  and  there.  They 
should  have  formed  themselves  into  a  separate  nation." 

'•  Hold  !  Gracie.  I  walked  over  here  this  morning,  and  gave 
mamma  another  shock,  because  I  would  not  order  the  carriage  ; 
I  came  purposely  to  have  a  cosy  chat  with  my  bosom  friend.  You 
must  remember  I  am  not  an  extreme  Southerner.  Do  not  allow 
your  sweet  self  to  be  shocked  now.  No  tenemos  tie?7ij)0  de  hacer  ese. 
Let  us  speak  of  other  things." 

"  Es  verdadj  qucrida  LcoJioi'c.  Hay  7nil  cosas  cerca  de  las  cuales 
querejHOS  hab.'ar.  I  so  wish  to  inquire  about  one  of  your  partners 
in  the  dance  last  night.  He  was  a  stranger,  was  he  not.-*  He  has 
not  the  air  of  our  young  men  —  he  appeared  somewhat  confused." 

"He  is  a  Northerner  —  I  will  frankly  tell  you — came  as  a 
teacher  in  Major  Signal's  family  on  the  Island.  He  is  now  study- 
ing law  in  uncle's  office  in  this  cit3^  There,  dear,  you  are  dressed  ; 
you  are  more  a  Vestal  Virgin  than  ever.  Is  not  that  one  of  the 
white  morning  robes  sent  you  from  Paris  ?  — Can  you  not  dismiss 
Zoe  ? " 

''Certainly.     Zoe,  go  to  mamma  for  orders." 

Leonore  drew  an  arm-chair  close  by  her  own,  looking  very 
wisely,  and  saying, — 

"Now,  darling,  sit  by  me  —  le:  me  see  your  eyes."  After  a  pref- 
atory, gleeful  laugh,  a  shake  of  the  head^  and  a  solemn,  reticent 
delay,  she  said,  '*  Ah!  my  lady  ;  I  have  a  secret  to  confide  !  —  Ah  1 
will  I  ?  —  No  ! — yes  —  a  secret,  so  precious,  so  sweet,  so  divine  ?  — 
Ah!  you  must  share  it.  Just  think  of  it !  I  came  all  this  way  on 
my   two  feet;  and  brought   it  without  a  carriage."     Raisuig   the 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  IO9 

fore-finger  again,  "  Now  this  secret,  like  a  chapter  in  a  novel,  be- 
gins with  poetry,  supposed  to  have  some  reference  to  what  fol- 
lows.'' 

Mischief  was  in  her  eyes,  and  pathos  in  her  voice,  as  she  half 
spoke,  half  chanted  the  lines  of  Hemans, — 

"Oh  !  ye  beloved,  come  home!  the  hour 

Of  many  a  greeting  tone,  '    . 

The  time  of  hearth-light  and  of  song 
Returns  —  and  ye  are  gone  ! 

Where  finds  \t_you  our  wandering  one  ? 

With  all  your  boyhood's  glee 
Untamed  ;  —  beneath  the  desert's  palm, 

Or  on  the  lone  mid  sea  ? 

'Mid  stormy  hills  of  battles  old 

Or  where  dark  rivers  foam  ? 
Oh  !  life  is  dim  where  3-e  are  not  — 

Back,  ye  beloved  !  come  home  I 

Come  with  the  leaves  and  winds  of  Spring 

And  swift  birds  o'er  the  main  ! 
Our  love  is  grown  too  sorrowful, 

Bring  us  its  youth  again  ! 

Bring  the  glad  toi>es  to  music  back  — 

Still,  still  your  home  is  fair  ; 
The  spirit  of  your  sunny  life 

Alone  is  wanting  there." 

A  tender  mist  veiled  the  eyes  turned  toward  the  speaker.  A 
tremulous  voice  made  answer. 

"  Thou  syren,  Leonore  !  Why  stir  the  transparent  depths  of 
memory,  and  thus  lure  my  frail  'hope  deferred'  to  wrecking 
again  ?" 

•'  Listen  to  the  echo,  Grace.    £s  ?nuy  e?ica7itador ! 

'  The  stately  ship  hath  touched  the  quay, 
Freighted  with  treasures  o'er  the  sea! 
But  the  rarest  things  it  brought  to  land. 
Were  a  faithful  heart  and  a  knightly  hand  ?  '  " 

"Prophetess!  What  do  you  say,"  ejaculated  Gracie,  as  she 
seized  the  hand  of  her  smiling  guest. 


no  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

"lam  saying  that  —  hearken!  that  Ralph  Haywood  —  do  not 
turn  so  pale  —  that  Ralph  Haywood  has  stepped  from  the  deck  ot 
the  Sumter  upon  his  native  shore." 

More  pallid  still,  the  listener  fell  back  in  her  chair,  clasped  her 
hands,  and  faintly  whispered, — 

"When?" 

Leonore  applied  restoratives,  always  at  hand;  stirred  the  fragrant 
air  with  a  laugh,  a  fan,  and  light  ridicule,  till  her  friend  besought 
her  to  answer, — 

"When?  When?" 

"  Never !  till  your  color  is  regained,  and  you  have  taken  a  turn 
with  me  on  the  piazza.  Then,  dearie,  I  am  at  your  service 
Come." 

Arm  in  arm  these  petted  girls  walked  slowly  up  aud  down  under 
the  shadows  of  fresh  spring  leaves  :  stopping  now  and  then,  to 
pull  a  rose,  or  a  cluster  from  the  exuberance  heaping  the  balus- 
trade. Both  were  tall,  dignified  and  graceful.  The  faces  of  both 
wore  the  untamed,  commanding  hauteur,  incident  to  Southern 
breeding.  Both  stood  rapturously  upon  the  brink  of  that  woman- 
hood, which  time,  and  custom  have  mapped  out  as  the  "  Ultima 
Thidc"'  of  wandering  maiden's  feet.  Both  peered  over  this  brink 
into  the  purple  distance,  without  foreboding,  and  without  fear. 

"Grace,  dearie,  3'OU  are  restored  ;  let  us  return  to  the  privacy  of 
your  chamber."  They  entered,  were  seated  as  before.  "  There  ! 
take  this  fan,  and  these  salts.  I  will  inform  you  '  when  '.  The 
Sumter  rolled  outside  the  bar  all  last  night ;  this  morning  early, 
she  came  to  the  wharf.  Ralph  is  at  the  old  family  mansion,  re- 
cruiting after  the  voyage.  He  will  not  go  out  to-day,  so  you  will 
have  ample  time  to  rally  yourself,  and  resume  your  usual  self- 
control." 

"  How  were  you  so  fortunate  as  to  learn  this  ? "  asked  Grace, 
reclining  in  her  chair  for  support. 

"Adolph  De  Bourbon  from  Augusta,  called  this  morning. 
Ralph  will  positively  not  go  out  to- day  " 

An  interval  of  thought  ensued  ;  it  was  interrupted  by  Grace. 

"  Leonore,  if  our  first  meeting  had  already  taken  place,  compo- 
sure were  easier.  When  I  shall  meet  Ralph's  first  glance,  will  it 
be  one  of  unmingled  joy  on  his  part,  or  shall  I  detect  a  shade  of 


WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  Ill 

disappointed  expectation,  at  any  change  which  absence  may  have 
wrought  in  me?  There  are  beautiful  women  in  France.  How 
shall  I  bear  the  comparison  ? " 

Her  face  grew  whiter.  Such  laughter  as  followed!  It  were  a 
panacea  for  invalids.  Such  fearless,  echoing  laughter!  Grace 
was  forced  to  join,  while  gleaning,  in  broken  fragments,  Leonore's 

replv. 

"Who  would  ever  have  thought  this,  that  Grace  Mowndes,  the 
high-born,  blue-blooded,  refined,  elegant,  and  accomplished  daugh- 
ter of  this  State,  could  depreciate  her  superb  claims,  as  the  'Queen 
of  Knighdv  Hearts.'  Our  gentlemen  are  not  easily  entrapped  by 
the  vulgar  attractions  of  fleshly  charms.  We  cannot  all  have  fea- 
tures of*  approved  Grecian  mould.  All  cannot  have  cheeks  colored 
after  the  latest  rose  in  the  garden.  Reflect,  dearie.  Have  you 
not  packages  of  letters  honied  with  Ralph's  devotion?  Do  you 
think  Ralph  Haywood  would  swerve  from  his  first  love  ?  Is  he  not 
a  true  South  Carolinian  ?  and  would  he  cast  the  shadow  of  a  pain 
upon  one  of  her  fair  daughters  ?  These  troubled  thoughts  of  yours 
are  the  inseparable  attendants  of  Love.  Cast  them  out,  Gracie ! 
There  are  no  obstacles  in  your  path,  as  there  are  in  mine ;  and  " 
she  added  resolutely,  "  there  are  none  in  mine,  that  decision  and 
address  will  not  remove." 

If  there  were  acerbity  and  sarcasm  in  this  hopeful  appeal,  the 
listener  failed  to  perceive  it,  and  replied,  "  You  are  a  strong  com- 
forter, Leonore.  You  are  a  flood  of  sunlight,  suddenly  poured 
from  a  cloud-rift.  Let  me  put  away  my  selhsh  joy,  to  ask  you, 
dear  girl,  what  is  meant  by  obstacles  in  your  path  ? " 

"  What  will  surprise  you,  Gracie  ;  that  which  might  as  well  be 
frankly  confessed  ;  for  this  kind  of  secrets  cannot  be  kept ;  I  await 
difficulty  in  more  wavs  than  one  ]  however,  I  think  myself  equal  to 
the  hour.  The  blushing,  confused  stranger  with  whom  you  saw 
me  dance  last  night,  is  the  beau  ideal  of  my  imagination  ;  more  — 
he  is  the  absolute,  confirmed  choice  of  my  heart.  A  wayward 
heart  you  may  call  it,  perhaps.  Something  like  winds  from  far  off 
lands  whispered  o'er  and  o'er  to  my  soul  his  name,  tuneful,  and 
sweet,  Gracie  !  this  still  prophecy  has  o'er-mastered  me  !  " 

"Leonore!  Leonore!  Why  stoop  so  low?  Why  tarnish  the 
bright  record  of  your  family  name,  by  bestowing  your  peerless  love 


ri2  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

SO  unworthily?  Can  you  not  control  your  affections  ?  Will  not  your 
undaunted  strengh  of  mind  turn  them  into  proper  channels  ?  " 

"  That  is  the  question,  my  dear  friend.  What  is  the  proper 
channel?  Love  is  like  those  winged,  or  plumed  seeds,  which, 
with  sails  set,  traverse  the  viewless  air,  and  come  to  anchor  in  all 
manner  of  havens.  One  of  these  has  stealthily  lodged  in  my 
heart  —  has  germinated  —  has  sprung  into  green  life.  It  has  blos- 
somed into  admiration  of  the  grand  capacity,  the  noble  virtues,  and 
serene  equipoise  of  the  soul  of  Hubert  Hastings." 

"  1  am  truly  shocked  at  your  words,  Leonore  ; "  grieved  Gracie. 
She  gazed  long  and  pitifully  into  the  inspired  eyes  of  her  reckless 
friend,  as  she  mentally  termed  Leonore.  With  a  sorrowful  air  she 
asked, — 

'*  Is  not  this  Northerner  one  of  those  adventurers  who  come 
among  us  so  frequenth^,  in  pursuit  of  fortune?  and  with  whom  it 
is  not  our  custom  to  form  intimate  relations  ?  Is  he  not  without 
wealth,  or  rank  ?  " 

*'  Alas  !  my  dear  Gracie  !  what  are  our  customs,  but  blown  and 
painted  shells,  filled  with  emptiness,  from  which  no  singing  birds 
of  joy  can  ever  spring  ?  " 

She  extended  the  thorn-marked  hand  at  arms  length,  clenched 
the  soft  lingers  earnestly,  saying, — 

"  I  crush  them  into  nothingness  1  "  She  opened  her  hand  palm 
down,  and  continued,  '*  I  grind  them  to  powder  beneath  my 
feet! 

•  The  rank  is  but  the  guinea's  stamp, 
A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that ! 

Gie  fools  their  silk,  and  knaves  their  win«, 

A  man's  a  man  for  a'  that ! 
For  a'  that,  and  a'  that  ; 

Their  tinsel  show,  and  a'  that ; 
The  honest  man,  though  e'er  sae  poor, 

Is  king  o'  men  for  a'  that ! 

A  prince  can  make  a  belted  knight, 

A  marquis,  duke,  and  a'  that ; 
But  an  honest  man's  aboon  his  might, 

Gued  faith,  he  maunna  fa'  that  I ' " 

During  the  recitation  of  the  last  verse,  she  caught  up  Grace,  and 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  II3 

the  two  went  waltzing  about  the  chamber,  into  the  dressing-room 
and  out  of  it,  into  the  corners  and  out  of  them,  and  around  the 
bright  chairs,  till  a  bloom  crept  into  Grade's  cheeks,  and  both 
voices  sparkled  with  mirth.     They  took  seats,  rosy  and  panting. 

Leonore  drew  a  long  breath,  from  which  flashed  a  smile. 

"  Gracie,  nerve  yourself  now,  I  am  going  to  analyze  some  of 
our  customs,  and  with  their  fragments  build  fortifications  around 
myself." 

Zoe  passed  through  the  hall  to  the  piazza,  placed  two  tables  and 
chairs,  spread  a  lunch  of  ice  cream  and  cake,  tapped  at  Grade's 
door,  and  invited  the  young  ladies  to  refreshment. 

"First  take  our  marriages, — the  most  of  them  have  blood,  rank, 
or  wealth,  for  their  basis.  The  true  instinctive  love  for  another  ^- 
this  latent  spark  of  earth's  blessedness,  struck  from  the  throne  of 
Omnipotence,  and  inlaid  by  God's  own  hand  in  every  human  soul 
alike,  is  often  counted  for  nothing.  The  bond  which  holds  these 
unions  is  the  formula  of  the  priest.  The  wife,  fortified  by  her  own 
sense  of  virtue,  patiently  accedes  to  these  terms." 

"Now,  inseparable  from  these  marriages,  is  the  twin  custom, 
granting  the  husband  unrestrained  freedom  for  unbridled  passion; 
or,  for  the  gratification  of  this  love,  which  w i/l  sii  enthroned  in  the 
human  heart.  With  this  most  precious  gift  of  existence,  man  en- 
dows the  object  of  his  fancy  or  choice.  These  are  usually  selected 
from  his  slaves;  from  our  quadroons,  our  octaroons,  or  often  from 
Africa's  own  children  of  velvety  blackness !  " 

Hush  !  Leonore  !  —  I  pray!"  shrieked  Grace,  holding  up  one 
hand  as  a  shield  from  these  daring  asseverations,  and  fanning  vio- 
lently with  the  other, —  "  your  language  outrages  every  feeling  of 
delicacy  and  affection  a  Southern  lady  may  possess.  Pause !  my 
best  friend;  you  are  doing  violence  to  the  sanctity  and  holiness  of 
Southern  homes.  Surely,  the  records  of  your  family  and  mine  have 
never  borne  so  foul  a  blot !  —  I  have  no  desire  to  contemplate  a 
theme  so  horrifying  and  repulsive.  My  dear  Leonore  !  some  evil 
guest  must  have  nestled  in  your  breast,  and  undermined  your  child- 
hood's faith  in  the  spells  of  Home  !  —  I  conjure  you, 

'By  the  household  tree  through  which  thme  eye  ■ 
First  looked  in  love  to  the  summer  sky; 


114  WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

*  By  the  shiver  of  the  ivy  leaves 
To  the  wind  of  morn,  at  thy  casement  eaves ; 
By  the  bees'  deep  murmur  in  the  limes, 
By  the  music  of  the  sabbath  chimes  ; ' 

Dear  Leonore !  I  conjure  you  to  cast  out  these  demons  so  abhor" 
rent  to  the  gentle  trust  of  woman." 

She  had  risen,  and  now  stood  before  her  guest, 

"And  her  proud  pale  brow  had  a  shade  of  scorn 
Under  the  waves  of  her  dark  hair  worn." 

Leonore  rose  also  ;  and  with  each  an  arm  about  the  other's 
waist,  they  passed  under  the  flowery  lace-curtain  through  the  win- 
dow upon  the  piazza.  With  slow  and  stately  step,  like  sisters  o^ 
royal  birth,  they  traversed  its  length  again  and  again.  Leonore's 
auburn  curls  touched  confidentially  the  glossy  dark  braids  of  her 
companion,  while  the  conversation  continued, — 

'*  Nay,  Gracie  !  my  faith,  or  want  of  faith,  is  founded  in  the 
actual — the  real.  ]My  source  of  information  is  reliable.  You 
know  my  dwarf,  '  Toad  '  —  my  maid  ?  Very  well.  She  is  fond  of 
me,  and  I  encourage  her  to  speak  freely  on  many  subjects.  *  Toad' 
has  lived  and  breathed  in  the  charmed  circle  of  those  very  customs 
which  so  shock  you.  Her  narrations  of  gentlemen  who  have  a 
white  and  black  wife  at  the  same  time,  chill  my  blood !  and  she  has 
shown  to  my  surprise,  the  preference  our  single  gentlemen  have 
for  black  women  over  white !  *' 

"  I  protest !  "  cried  Grace.  "  How  can  you  put  any  confidence 
in  the  deceptive  representations  o"f  a  slave !  " 

"Why,  do  you  not  see,  that  when  what  is  related  runs  parallel 
with  one's  own  personal  observations,  one //z/zi"/ believe  ?  Let  me 
convince  you.  You  know  that  Alphonse,  my  oldest  brother,  is  not 
married  !  That  his  friends  constantly  rally  him  upon  his  indif- 
ference to  feminine  charms,  and  upon  his  bachelor  habits.  At 
parties,  balls,  and  social  gatherings,  you  know  with  what  polite 
but  cool  gallantry  he  meets  the  grace  and  beauty  around  him  !  Very 
well,  asrain.  The*  disclosures  of  '  Toad '  set  me  to  thinkins:.  I 
have  found,  Grace,  the  shrme  of  his  worship !  I  have  seen  him 
leave  our  elegant  mansion,  and  enter  the  small  humble  house, 
where    daily    awaits  him,   the   mother   of    his   two    children.      I 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  II5 

have  heard  her  glad  laugh  ring  at  his  coming,  I  have  seen  her 
dark  brown  face  —  the  same  as  are  bought  and  sold  at  our  marts 
every  day  in  the  week  !  Now  Gracie  Mowndes,  do  you  suppose 
Alphonse  does  this  from  compulsion  ?  He,  whose  will  has  never 
been  crossed,  whose  desires  have  n^^ver  been  thwarted,  'from  the 
cradle  up  ? '  What  impels  him  to  spend  days,  and  nights  with  her  ? 
—  to  dress  her  with  refinement,  but  this  instinctive  power  of  which 
I  have  spoken  ?  I  have  seen  his  children,  when  '  Toad  '  has  pur- 
posely delayed  their  nurse  while  giving  them  an  airing  in  the 
street !  Brown  children  !  resembling  their  father  !  —  decked  with 
gay  dresses,  and  children's  baubles !  Gracie,  this  is  truth. 
Why  tremble  ?  Ah  !  these  are  the  weapons  of  my  defence  when  I 
shall  be  called  to  an  account  for  loving  the  intelligent,  refined 
Northern  student,  Hubert  Hastings." 

"I  must  decline  to  beheve  this,  or  reply.  It  is  repugnant. 
Your  welfare  is  dear  to  me  ;  but  now,  seriously,  is  this  the  end  of 
the  noble  Scotch  line  of  Wallace  ?  Does  the  Highland  lassie,  the 
scornful  beauty,  who  has  refused  titled  suitors  of  other  lands,  yield 
to  the  prentensions  of  a  landless,  toiling  adventurer  ? " 

"  Oh  !  ho  !  my  dearest,  wisest  monitor !  Methinks  the  noble 
Wallace  line  became  merged  in  African  blood,  long  before  this ! 
And  as  to  the  '  titled  suitors,'  I  never  liked  men :  I  had,  and  still 
have  a  decided  aversion  to  their  stereotyped  compliments,  and  de- 
votional exercises  for  every  new  girlish  face  they  may  meet.  It 
belittles  woman.  It  robs  her  of  what  scanty  individuality  she  may 
possess.     For  this  reason, 

*I  said  there  was  naething  I  hated  like  men  ; 
The  deuce  gae  \Yi'm  to  believe  me,  believe  me  ; 
The  deuce  gae  wi'm  to  believe  me.' 

As  to  pretensions,  Gracie,  Hubert  makes  none.  Truthfulness 
modesty,  and  sincerity  are  his  only  jewels.  He  m.ay  have  been  a 
bare-footed  boy, — gleaning  life  and  virtues  among  the  rugged 
hills  of  the  North.     I  care  not !  — He's  poor, —  I  care  not ! 

'  Oh,  gear  will  buy  me  rigs  o'land. 

And  gear  will  buy  me  sheep  and  kye ; 
But  the  tender  heart  o'leesome  luve 

The  gowd  and  siller  canna  buy,'  " 


Il6  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

They  entered  the  chamber.  Leonore  gave  her  friend  an  embrace 
frank  and  fresh  as  spring's  early  breath.  She  held  her  out  at  arm's 
length  —  showered  upon  her  playful  smiles,  dimples,  and  glances, 
—  demanding  to  know  if  her  secret  were  safe .?  Then,  answer- 
ed her  own  question  by  saying, — 

"Safe  enough,  I  believe,  darling!  for  now,  at  this  sweet  crisis, 
Leonore  will  find  no  place  among  the  delicious  dreams  of   Gracie  ! 

Now  I  am  going.     An  rcvoir^  ma  chere  !'^ 

"  Stay  !     How  was  Hastings  admitted  to  the  ball  last  night?  " 

"  By  the  magic  of  Leonore,  dearie  !  You  know  uncle  sets  me  up, 
his  idol  —  grants  all  my  wishes.  I  hinted  to  him  that  no  Ameri- 
can should  be  debarred  from  the  elevating,  instructive  presence  of 
our  statesmen  ;  etc.,  etc  !  " 

Leaving  a  fragrant  kiss  for  Gracie.  she  fluttered  away  like  a  sing- 
ing bird,  lost  amid  forest  arches. 

Mrs.  Mowndes  hastened  to  her  daughter's  room  to  inquire  for 
her  health,  after  the  ball.  She  stepped  in  through  the  lace  cur- 
tained-window  from  the  piazza,  saying  with  solicitude, — 

"  My  dear  child  !  your  lunch  remains   untouched  !  " 

"  True,  mamma  !  we  had  forgotten  it." 

Grace  met  her  with  unusual  feeling.  Mrs.  Mow^ndes  became 
alarmed,  and  endeavored  to  convince  herself,  that  Grace  was  not 
quite  well, —  that  Leonore  should  not  have  been  admitted — that 
sne  should  have  continued  her  rest,  and  many  other  anxious  sug- 
gestions, which  Grace  brought  to  an  abrupt  close,  by  throwing  her 
arms  about  her  neck,  and  saying, — 

"  You  are  mistaken  my  dear  mother !  you  are  mistaken  !  I  am 
well,  perfectly.  Ah  !  I  have  gladsome  news  for  your  ear  !  "  An 
overwhelming  joy  thrilled  every  word!  She  took  the  maternal 
hand,  and  led  her  to  a  seat,  with  the  softened  majesty  a  princess 
might  exhibit  towards  a  queen  mother. 

Mrs.  INIowndes'  eye  ran  over  the  perfection  of  the  figure,  the 
delicate  complexion  without  a  blemish,  than  which  the  white  em- 
broidered morning  robe  was  scarcely  fairer  —  the  braids  ravishingly 
glossy  and  soft  —  the  large  midnight  eyes,  dilated  with  the  new- 
born transport  which  filled  her  whole  being.  She  caught  the 
glances  of  those  eyes  so  wondrously  lighted.  Her  gaze  dropped  to 
the  jeweled  slippers  resting  on  the  purple  pansies  of  the  carpet. 


^  WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  II7 

This  last  was  a  ruse,  to  conceal  the  proud  pleasure  which  meteor- 
like, shot  athwart  the  air  of  repose,  which  should  accompany  rank 
and  good  breeding.  Recovery  was  the  work  of  an  instant.  Long 
habit  renders  dissimulation  easy.  In  her  usual  throne  like  dig- 
nity she  said, — 

"  Speak  !  my  daughter  !  Your  spirit  overflows  with  a  sudden 
sunburst  of  delight !  What  tidings  move  you  thus  ?  "  The  reply 
was  a  question, — 

"  Dear  mamma  !  can  you  not  surmise  ?  Do  you  not  know  that 
but  one  thing  could  move  me  thus?  What  if  I  tell  you  a  new  star 
has  returned  to  the  guiding  cynosure  of  South  Carolina  !  one  in 
whom  the  exalted  emotions  of  patriotism,  and  the  promptings  of 
valor  will  find  no  superior  among  our  annals  of  public  virtues  ! 
Ah  !  mamma,  what  if  I  tell  you  that  such  an  one  floated  into  port 
to-day,  with  the  yellow  radiance  of  morning  !  And,  wait  !  What 
if  I  add  that  this  distinguished  voynger  is  not  an  alien  !  but  that 
his  name  is  enrolled  among  the  most  illustrious  of  our  State  !  " 

Her  lustrous  eyes  kindled  into  new  glory,  while  waiting  for  her 
mother  to  speak  the  cherished  name.  Her  long  lashes  at  first  rose 
and  fell  triumphantly;  afterwards,  as  if  moved  by  the  haunting  fear 
expressed  to  Leonore,  her  lids  dropped. 

Mrs.  Mowndes  calmly  took  Grade's  hand,  kissed  cheeks  and 
brow,  and  drew  her  to  her  bosom. 

"  My  sweet  !  my  darling !  how  can  I  fail  to  recognize  the  idol 
of  her  who  is  dearer  to  me  than  life !  How  can  I  fail  to  read  the 
lovely  signals  of  woman's  holy  trust  !  How  can  my  breast  fail  to 
become  imbued  with  the  supreme  happiness  of  this  moment ! 
Gracie,  my  darling,  how  deeply,  indeed,  does  my  heart  reiterate 
your  joy!  What  do  I  behold  .J""  Tears!  my  angel — tears!  The 
hearts  glad  sunshine  veiled  in  sorrow  ?  Wherefore,  my  daughter  ! 
wherefore?  Control  yourself, —  this  is  but  the  effect  of  over- 
wrought nerves, —  too  delicate  for  a  night  of  gayety !  " 

"No!  no!  I  should  be  content  if  physical  causes  were  the 
source  of  this  agitation, —  the  remedy  would  be  most  easy  and 
natural.  You  have  seen  our  rice  fields  swept  by  alternate  rolling 
billows  of  light,  and  shadow,  when  drifting  clouds  pass  over  the 
sun,  mamma  !  Like  the  swaying  rice  fields  am  I !  Shadowy 
apprehensions  chase  golden  hopes,  and  my  soul  is  strangely  swept 
by  both." 


Il8  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  You  sto.rtle  me,  ray  daughter  !  '  Shadowy  apprehensions  ?  * 
Pray,  hasten  to  explain  !  These  words  prove  as  mystical  as  the 
falling  tears  I  Come  to  your  bed,  my  child!  recline  upon  it. 
Your  gentle  soul  is  too  cruelly  tortured." 

This  overture  Grace  steadily  refused,  and  sh-ove  to  allay  the 
solicitude    of   her  mother,  by  taking  again    a  calmer   manner,    say- 

"  These  tears  are  like  the  sudden  droppings  of  a  light  scud, 
crossing  the  blue  sky.  They  fall  in  the  sunshine,  and  are  exhaled 
in  its  rays. 

"  Mamma,  you  remember  our  visit  to  Lausanne  during  our  last 
tour  in  Europe  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  my  dear." 

"You  remember  Ralph  joined  us  at  Geneva?     He  had  just  re- 
turned from    Egypt,  whither  he  went   to  purchase    an    Arabian  ; 
he  accompanied  us  as  far  as  Lausanne  ?" 

"Distinctly.-" 

"  You  call  to  mind  also  my  persistence  in  stopping  at  the  Inn, 
*Ancre'  on  the  shore  of  the  lake,  where  Byron  wrote  the  'Pris- 
oners of  Chillon?' — that  together,  we  remained  the  same  number 
of  days  as  the  illustrious  poet  had  done  before  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  darling  !  The  spot  possessed  as  much  interest  for  me 
as  for  yourself." 

"Was  I  then  —  mamma  —  was  I — beautiful  ?  The  magnificence 
of  the  scenery,  the  sunny  presence  and  adoration  of  Ralph,  were 
sufncient  to  cast  out  narrow  thoughts  of  self.  Since  that  delight- 
ful hour,  I  have  made  some  advances  in  lessons  of  the  world.  Its 
hollow  flattery  is  not  to  be  trusted.  ^Mamma,  was  I  beautiful  — 
then  ? " 

"  You  were  the  centre  of  all  eyes.  Wherever  your  steps  strayed, 
a  gentle,  queenly  grace  marked  every  motion.  The  classic  mould 
of  your  features  was  the  topic  of  all  lovers  of  art  whom  we  met,  in 
our  travels.  You  were  Madonna  and  Sultana  in  one.  Grace,  my 
daughter,  why  this  question  of  long  ago  '^  The  present  should 
most  deeply  interest  you  now." 

"Mamma,  it  was  then,  while  strolling  along  the  shores  of  the 
deep  blue  waters  of  lake  Geneva,  that  Ralph  made  a  declaration  of 
his  pure  and  faithful  love.     A  few  hours  after,  while  my  heart  was 


WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK   JUNE.  II9 

yet  in  a  tumult  of  sweet  hopes  and  delicious  dreams,  I  sat  in  the 
very  room  where  Byron  wrote  his  immortal  poem.  Ralph  entered, 
radiant  in  manly  beauty ;  took  my  hand  in  his,  raised  it  to  his 
lips,  and  sportively  said,  'I  make  you  my  Prisoner  of  Chillon  !  ' 
He  placed  this  upon  my  finger,  and  continued  impressively,  'With 
this  ring  I  bind  you  to  the  pillar  of  my  changeless  affection  ! '  He 
pointed  to  the  diamond,  raised  my  hand  again  to  his  lips,  and 
bade  me  remember  that  the  sparkling  light  should  be  the  reflection 
of  the  bright  waters  of  lake  Geneva, —  a  Bonnivard's  window  to 
my  soul." 

During  thisJolushing  confession  Grace  sat  fixedly,  contemplating 
the  costly  symbol  of  imprisonment.  Her  dark  lashes  suddenly 
raised  to  her  mother. 

"Mamma,  you  aver  that  strangers  called  me  beautiful,  tJie7t. 
Without  partiality  tell  me  —  without  the  loving  deception  which 
would  naturally  color  your  reply  —  am  I  beautiful  now  2  Ami 
changed  ?     Am  I  less  attractive  in  person  or  manner  ?  " 

Mrs.  Mowndes  with  many  caresses  bade  her  daughter  dismiss  all 
uneasiness.  She  assured  her  that  in  graces  of  person,  in  symme- 
try of  form,  in  that  which  pleases  the  eye  and  charms  the  senses, 
she  was  more  voluptuously  developed  than  at  the  time  of  parting 
with  her  lover  at  Lausanne.  "  But,"  she  added,  with  increased 
dignity  of  demeanor,  ''  in  the  intrinsic  beauty  of  a  noble  and  high- 
born spirit  you  have  made  great  advances.  This  loveliness  which 
is  addressed  to  the  understanding  never  fades  or  palls  upon  the 
taste.  This  it  is  which  illumines  and  glorifies  all  exterior  attrac- 
tions. My  daughter,  it  is  quite  humiliating  to  witaess  this  distrust 
of  yourself.  Let  a  descendant  of  English  Peerage  on  the  one  side, 
and  of  unyielding,  independent  Huguenot  blood  on  the  other, 
rather  exalt,  than  depreciate  herself.  My  daughter,  does  not  the 
blood  of  these  two  ancestries  blend  in  you  ?  Dissipate,  I  pray, 
these  unworthy  fears.  Recall  your  wonted  composure.  I  give  you 
joy  for  this  clay  of  ripened  hopes." 

She  besought  Grace  to  take  a  drive  in  the  fresh  spring  air.  She 
rang  for  Zoe,  bade  her  dress  her  young  mistress,  and  order  the 
carriage  at  the  proper  time.  The  only  obstacle  to  this  arrange- 
ment was  suggested  by  Grace;  that  Ralph  might  reverse  his  de- 
cision for  retirement,  and  seek  her  ai  home  during  her  absence. 


I20  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

Grace  set  herself  to  regain  the  complacency  and  winning  vivac- 
ity so  requisite  to  the  conventionalities  of  evening  dress  and  prom- 
enade. Now  Grace  and  Zoe  were  much  more  familiar  than  was 
customary  with  mistress  and  maid.  Zoe  loved  to  dress  and  adorn 
her  mistress,  as  the  sculptor  delights  to  chisel  into  life  new  graces 
from  the  marble  under  his  hands.  The  fastening  a  bow,  tying  a 
sash,  adjusting  a  long  heavy  plait  of  hair,  were  for  her,  pleasant 
studies.  Both  were  of  nearly  the  same  age  and  height.  Zoe's 
wealth  of  shining  black  curls  were  a  match  to  Grace's  dark  braids. 
Her  skin  had  nearly  the  same  clearness,  except  that  the  blusli  of 
Zoe's  cheek  colored  with  a  richer  carnation  than  Qrace's.  Zoe's 
style  and  manner  were  the  complement  of  the  mode  of  her  mis- 
tress,— it  had  the  same  aristocratic  flavor.  Many  of  Grace's  par- 
tially worn  and  handsome  dresses  were  given  to  the  maid,  whom 
they  fitted  at  once.  Perchance  the  pink  and  the  blue,  floating 
about  Zoe  were  a  shade  or  two  lighter  than  those  worn  by  Grace  ; 
but  like  sunlight  and  moonlight,  the  one  seemed  the  reflection  of 
the  other  —  both  were  attractive.  Their  gayety  was  often  recipro- 
cal;  and  in  their  mingled  mirth  was  heard  no  discord.  Their 
voices  were  strangely  similar — the  natural  pitch  in  unison,  with 
this  difference, —  that  one  seemed  to  procoed  from  an  instrument 
of  subdued  tone,  and  the  other  from  one  more  brilliant.  Wherever 
they  moved,  one  following  the  other,  Zoe  appeared  the  soft  shadow 
of  Grace. 

It  was  time  for  the  toilet.  Grace  sat  under  the  careful  eye  and 
skillful  fingers  of  her  maid. 

"  Zoe,  dress  my  hair  more  elaborately  than  usual  —  give  it  ele- 
gance." 

"De  tout  7710JI  coeur,  ma  chere  7naitresse  !  It  shall  be  the  admiration 
of  all  eyes." 

(They  often  spoke  a  bit  of  French  together.) 

"  iNIy  lover  has  returned,  Zoe  —  my  lover  from  over  the  sea! 
Carolina's  noble  son  !  Dress  me  charmingly  to-day  !  Have  a  care 
for  every  flounce  and  every  fold  !  —  Oh!  my  heart  is  throbbing! 
I  cannot  think  !  " 

"  Leave  all  to  Zoe,  dear  miss.  Bury  yourself  in  happy  thoughts. 
No  lady  in  the  land  deserves  a  noble  lover,  more  than  mine." 

While   speaking,  she  passed   the  comb   admiringly   through   and 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  12  1 

through  the  raven,  wavy  tresses  that  swept  over   her  arm   to    the 
floor. 

''  Close  that  bhnd  !     It  is  too  light !  "  directed  Grace. 

"  There  is  enough  of  sunshine  in  your  heart,  Miss  Gracie  !  "  was 
the  gentle  reply. 

"  Do  you  remember  master  Ralph  Haywood,  Zoe,  before  he 
went  to  Europe  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mistress  !  as  perfectly  as  if  it  were  yesterday  !  I  recollect 
his  elegant  figure  ;  and  above  all,  his  unceasing  attentions  to  your- 
self in  his  boyhood." 

Silence,  and  attention  to  the  immediate  demands  of  the  moment, 
succeeded.  Zoe  knelt  and  rose,  around  Grace,  like  a  priestess 
before  the  shrine  of  the  Virgin,  —  retired  a  few  steps  —  turned  her 
head  this  way  and  that,  to  decide  upon  a  certain  effect  —  lifted  a 
bow  here,  bent  a  flower  there,  raised  a  puff,  smoothed  a  plait, 
wreathing  every  part  of  her  task  with  her  own  smiles. 

Grace  paid  no  attention  to  Zoe's  movements  about  her,  nor 
manifested  recognition  of  the  soft  artistic  touches  to  her  costume  ; 
being  lost  in  the  rapid  visions  of  the  blissful  future.  The  very 
careless  indifference  of  her  standing  posture,  and  her  yielding 
unconsciously  to  any  suggestion,  was  an  evidence  of  her  implicit 
faith  in  Zoe's  taste,  and  of  a  perfect  content  in  her  sympathetic 
companionship. 

Zoe  threw  a  glance,  from  time  to  time,  upon  the  golden  figure 
which  the  bird  of  paradise  held  in  his  beak,  and  roused -Grace  by 
saying,— 

"  Now,  my  mistress,  will  you  please  step  to  the  mirror !  The 
carriage  is  readv  !  " 

She  had  removed  every  obstacle  in  her  mistress'  way  towards  a 
survey  of  herself ;  and  now  gave  the  long  glass  reaching  to  the 
floor  the  right  angle — observing  carefully,  at  the  same  moment, 
her  who  gazed  therein.  A  bright  look  of  'approval  was  a  sufficient 
reward  for  Zoe.  She  opened  the  door,  and  stood  aside  for  her 
young  lady  to  pass  out.  Both  tripped  down  the  broad  stairs, 
Grace's  lovely  shadow  following. 

King  street  was  gorgeous  Vvi'ih  costly  equipages,  liveries,  and  the 
beau  inonde  of  the  "City  of  the  Sea  "' ;  the  Mowndes'  carriage,  and 
spirited  pair  dashed  into  the  brilliant  thoroughfare.     Courtesy  and 


122  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

recognition  met  Grace  on  ev^ery  hand.  Bevies  of  sparkling  beau- 
ties and  belles  sauntered  slowly  down  the  pavement,  like  troops  of 
butterflies,  hovering  and  balancing  in  the  sheeny  air.  Gay  stream- 
ers and  delicate  laces  fluttered  on  the  evening  zephyr.  Rich  silks, 
from  London,  Paris,  Berlin,  and  Canton,  rustled  along  the  walk, 
where  ladies  of  selected  blood  chatted  and  smiled.  They  ad- 
vanced, paused,  waved  jewelled  hands,  bowed,  flattered  ;  —  mur- 
mured low  and  sweetly; — proffered  elegant  adieus,  and  swept  on. 

Grace  alighted,  joining  the  resplendent  throng.  Without  com- 
mand, springing  hoofs,  fiery  eyes,  and  rearing  beasts  measured  a 
fretful   progress  with  her  leisurely,  light-footed  step. 

Zoe,  full  of  busy  exultant  plans  for  her  beloved  young  mistress, 
bethought  herself  of  several  duties  to  be  dispatched  during  her 
absence.  Among  these,  was  the  cutting  superfluous  sprays  of  rose- 
vines,  thrust  between,  and  over  the  balusters  on  the  piazza,  to  the 
great  detriment  of  her  lady's  dresses.  The  wisteria,  also,  climbing 
over  the  front  end  of  the  balustrade  to  the  roof,  had  grown  too 
familiar;  it  should  be  draped  away,  and  trimmed  into  symmetry. 
She  had  just  brought  out  her  basket,  and  was  giving  the  wisteria 
her  attention.  Her  slender  figure  robed  in  white  could  be  plainly 
seen  from  the  street,  amidst  the  tender  green.  Grape-like  clusters 
of  purple  blossoms  embowered  her  head,  and  toyed  with  the  shower 
of  soft  black  curls.  The  glow  of  excitement  from  the  late  toilet 
still  lingered  in  cheek  and  eyes. 

Steps  upon  the  pavement  below,  caused  her  to  turn  stealthily  to 
the  street.  The  well-pleased  gaze  of  a  gentleman  met  her  own. 
He  held  his  hat  raised,  and  proffered  a  courtly  bow.  Zoe  turned 
her  face  quickly  away,  as  if  this  act  of  consideraiion  were  not  ob- 
served. While  proceeding  with  her  work,  her  color  deepened,  and 
her  small  hands  trembled. 

The  bell  rans:,  —  the  servant  ushered  in  a  visitor.  Zoe  finished 
cutting  and  training  the  wisteria,  and  moved  on  to  the  roses. 
Sounds  of  joyful  greeting,  as  of  those  long  parted,  rose  from  the 
open  parlor  windows  on  the  lower  piazza.  Confused  exclamations 
of  glad  surprise,  and  regrets  reached  her ;  and  the  voices  subsided 
into  the  lower  tones  of  ordinary  conversation.  She  questioned, 
who  might  be  the  handsome  stranger?  Could  it  be  her  young 
lady's  lover,  Ralph  Haywood  ?     If,  indeed,  it  were  he,  w^hat  could 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  123 

induce  him  to  bow  deferentially  to  herself  ?  —  to  Zoe  !  —  the   slave 
cf  Grace  Mowndes  ? 

Zoe  knew  every  word  in  the  code  of  Southern  morals.  She  knew 
the  opaUne  hues  of  its  lovely  epidernnis-^the  bitter  juice  of  its  full 
and  rounded  mesosperm.  She  knew  it  to  the  core  —  she  knew 
the  seeds  of  that  core — that  each  one  was  a  black  and  frozen 
drop  of  agony,  The  white  slave  knew  her  value,  weighed  with 
that  "  apple  of  discord.  "  There  were  times  and  places  where  she 
had  received  warmer  attentions  than  a  cold  courtly  bow  from  the 
street.  Carolina's  sons,  of  blood  as  high  as  Ralph  Haywood's,  had 
besought  her  smiles,  and  humbly  plead  for  her  love.  Bejewelled 
hands^had  often  been  kissed  to  her  soft,  enchanting  eyes.  True  ! 
it  was  a  matter  of  course  :  but  this  could  not  occur  on  the  public 
thoroughfare  —  in  the  illuminating  light  of  day.  The  sun  never 
beheld^it!  no  such  insult  was  ever  offered  to  his  god-ship  —  in  the 
face  and  front  of  wealthy,  luxurious  mansions  ! 

A  faintness  at  the  thought  of  possible  consequences  of  the  fatal 
salute,  and  of  the  unreasonable  jealousy  of  her  mistress,  changed 
the  velvet  bloom  of  her  cheeks  to  pallor.  She  caught  up  the  basket 
half-filled  with  plump  clusters,  tendrils  and  sprays;  pinken  white 
and  yellow  roses ;  thorny  stems  and  leaves  ;  threw  in  the  scissors, 
stole  into  Grade's  chamber,  and  fell  into  the  crimson  arm-chair 
recently  occupied  by  her  young  lady  duriug  her  interview  with 
Leonore.  Equally  striking,  both  pictures.  There  were  tears  for 
both  faces  !  disquieting  anxiety,  and  fear.  Both  silently  plead  for 
pity  and  sympathy.  A  disinterested  observer  would  have  impul- 
sively yielded  it  to  the  latter.  Zoe  clasped  her  slender  white  fin- 
gers'together,  and  wrung  them,  till  her  nails  grew  red  as  the  petals 
in  her^basket.  She  elevated  them  to  an  Invisible  Friend;  raised 
her  pale  face  towards  His  viewless  abode.  She  sunk  back,  with 
a  long,  low  moan,  and  helplessly  cried, — 
"  Thou,  God,  seest  me  1 " 

As  if  it  were  a  relief  to  speak  even  to  empty  air,  wringing  her 
hands  still,  she  moaned, — 

'•'  Oh  !  I  can  ask  for  no  other  aid  !  I  am  a  slave.  Stony  hearts 
surround  me  !  my  wishes,  my  will,  my  truthfulness,  my  honor,  my 
faithful  services,  are  of  no  more  account  to  them  than  the  dust 
beneath  their  feet !  " 


124  WHITE    MAY,       AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

She  was  startled  by  the  departure  of  the  visitor.  She  heard  his 
adieus,  heard  his  ringing  steps  down  the  marble  walk,  and  out  inlo 
the  dead  distance.  She  roused  herself,  strove  to  remove  every 
vestige  of  disquietude,  and  awaited  the  carriage. 

Grace  first  entered  the  parlor.  Mother  and  daughter  held  a  pro- 
longed conference.  Both  came  up  to  the  chamber  together.  Zoe 
saw  the  storm  approaching,  but  was  grimly  allowed  to  attend  upon 
Grace,  before  it  broke.  She  was  then  told  to  stand  and  listen, 
while  they  confronted  her  with  her  crime. 

"  So  you  have  dared  to  assume  the  character  of  your  mistress  ?  " 
sharply  questioned  the  matron. 

"And  you  have  dared  to  entice  to  yourself,  the  first  greeting  of 
my  affianced  husband  !  "  chimed  Grace.  "A  fine  minx  are  you  to 
have  about  me  !  "  and  the  angry  blood  mounted  to  her  hair. 

"  Believe  me,  my  dear  ladies  ! "  meekly  interposed  Zoe.  The 
first  words  of  her  justification  were  rudely  broken  off  by  the  sharp, 
wild  words  of  Grace, — 

"Believe  3'ou !  believe  jw/ !  jjw/ !  full  of  brazen  deceptive  airs! 
You  slid  like  a  serpent,  among  the  branches  of  the  wisteria,  with 
\\\Q purpose  oi  humiliating  Ralph,  and  bringing  gossiping  disgrace 
upon  this  family  " 

Mrs.  Mowndes  came  to  her  assistance, — 

"  I  saw  him  salute  you  myself,  at  the  parlor  window.  It  was 
painful  to  witness  his  disappointment,  v.'hen  I  assured  him  that 
Miss  Grace  was  out  taking  an  airing.  He  insisted  that  he  had 
seen  her  at  the  upper  piazza.  Of  course  I  would  not  explain  to 
him  what  I  knew  to  be  the  shameful  truth.  I  assured  him  that 
his  impassioned  gaze  had  been  subject  to  an  illusion." 

"So,  so,  indeed!'*'  cried  Grace.  "Because  I  once  wore  curls, 
you  resolved  to  step  into  my  shoes  !  play  the  lady  !  and  —  steal  the 
mistaken  homage  of  a  high-bred  gentleman!  Aha!  I  will  give 
you  my  shoes,  which  seem  to  fit  you  so  admirably.  Aha  !  1  will 
teach  you  to  remember  the  degraded  race  from  which  you  have 
sprung.     I  will  teach  you  to  remember  you  are  a  negro  !  " 

The  proud  beauty,  panting  with  the  vehemence  of  scorn  and 
rage,  snatched  off  her  slipper,  glided  swiftly  to  Zoe,  and  slapped 
the  panic-stricken,  defenceless  girl's  face,  with  the  practised  preci- 
sion of  an  amateur. 


4 


!!illiiijj^'  ! 


'-^ife^EMSS 


^3w 


UU 


m 


THE   sister's  QUAEREL. 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  12$ 

Zoe's  hot  blood  burned,  and  flamed  through  her  delicate  skin, 
wherever  the  infernal  instrument  of  torture  wounded  Her  pulses 
sprang  into  a  wild  tumult.  A  lightning  flash  darted  from  her 
hitherto  appealing  eyes  !  —  Then  it  was,  that  her  "  Invisible  Friend,'' 
saw  her  !  — and  gently  withdrew  His  sustaining  hand  from  the 
ources  of  her  abused  life.  Her  brain  swam,  S/u  sank  scjiseless  to 
the  floor.  She  felt  no  pain,  no  passion,  no  bondage.  Well,  that  it 
were  so  !  for  blue  blood  slumbered  in  Zoe's  veins  —  natural  instinct 
might  have  stirred  its  dangerous  depths  in  the  maid,  as  well  as  in 
the  mistress.  Greek  might  have  met  Greek.  Hot  blood  might 
have  met  its  match  in  the  same  temperature. 

The  disheveled  curls,  flattened  and  tangled  by  recent  blows, 
trailed  upon  the  velvet  pansies  of  the  carpet. 

Mrs.  Mowndes  pointed  to  this,  and  made  a  gesture  to  her  daugh- 
ter. Grace  quickly  understood  the  intimation,  and  caught  the 
scissors  from  the  basket  of  Zoe's  green  clippings.  With  the  soft 
tread  of  a  panther,  the  madam  crept  to  the  heap  of  insensibility. 
Wearing  a  malignant  smile,  she  rapidly  severed  every  vestige  of  a 
ringlet  from  the  beautiful  head  !  The  shorn  locks  were  indignantly 
thrown  into  the  basket  for  burning  ;  there,  through  their  dead  and 
severed  rings,  peeped  forth  the  purple,  pink,  and  white  of  the  dying 
flowers.     Zoe's  white  temples  gleamed  up  stark,  and  unveiled. 

Mrs.  Mowndes  and  Grace,  flushed  with  success,  seated  them- 
selves, in  whispered  interchange  of  plans. 

After  a  few  moments,  animation,  unaided,  returned  to  the  pros- 
trated Zoe.  She  arose  feebly,  weak  and  calm !  seeming  to  have 
come  from  a  far  off  land  !  a  stranger  to  those  present !  She  stood 
for  a  few  instants  with  lids  cast  down,  striving  with  quickening 
memory  ;  with  the  saddest  of  voices,  she  ventured  to  speak. 

"My  dear  ladies  !  I  do  not  deny  that  I  was  on  the  piazza,  and 
that  I  saw  that  unfortunate  act  of  politeness  extended  to  me,  your 
slave, —  but  I  beg.  Miss  Gracie,  you  will  allow  me  to  say,  I  did  not 
bow  myself,  and  had  no  intention  of  taking  3^our  respect  and  honor 
to  —  me  — your  servant !  " 

"  Hush  !  "  retorted  Mrs.  Mowndes  ;  "  not  another  word  from 
your  treacherous  lips  !  Another  falsehood,  and  I  send  you  to  the 
work-house  for  twenty  lashes  !  " 

"  Your  punishment  for  the  present,"  said  Grace,  "  is  to  take  off 


126  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

your  finery,  go  to  the  kitchen,  and  do  the  drudgery  suited  to  your 
impudence  and  condition. —  Go  !  — Leave  my  sight  !  " 

Zoe  staggered  to  the  stairs,  and  by  the  support  of  the  friendly 
railing,  was  striving  to  reach  the  hall  below.  James,  the  footman, 
standing  near,  saw  with  a  shudder  the  disfigured  and  tiembling 
gill  slowly  decending  :  he  took  a  rapid  survey  upward,  set  his  foot 
on  the  second  stair,  sprang  lightly  up,  and  fairly  lifted  her  to  the 
floor.  He  took  her  arm,  and  lent  her  his  strength  to  the  kitchen 
door  —  laid  his  hand  caressingly  on  the  bare  head,  and  flew  back 
to  his  post,  unobserved. 

Zoe's  mother,  warned  by  the  whispers  of  other  servants  in  the 
kitchen,  met  her  silently  ;  caught  her  in  loving  arms,  almost  carry- 
ing her  up  the  dark  and  narrow  staircase,  to  her  own  room.  She 
kissed  o'er  and  o'er  the  half-blistered  cheeks,  and  laid  her  upon 
her  own  humble  bed. 


CHAPTER   Vni. 

THERE  was  no  flagging  in  the  interest  of  revival  week  at 
Cloudspire.  Edmund  Stone,  the  hunch-back,  fulfilled  the 
promise  of  a  sermon  upon  the  abodes  of  the  Blest  and  the  Lost. 
A  prophetic  and  solemn  style  of  delivery,  united  with  a  wonderful 
perspecuity  of  description,  presented  the  scenes  of  Heaven  and 
Hell  before  the  listener's  eye  with  the  vivid  transitions  of  a  moving 
panorama  ;  inspiring  unlimited  confidence.  His  manner  had  the 
assurance  of  a  tourist,  who  had  made  an  official  inspection  of  both 
regions.  He  laid  the  Heavenly  streets  like  the  walks  of  an  orna- 
mental flower  garden,  and  paved  them  with  pure  gold. 

The  yellow  gleaming  of  a  golden  pavement  was  exceedingly- 
pleasant  to  those  stern  heads  of  families,  whose  entire  earthly  exist- 
ence had  become  a  weariness  to  the  flesh,  in  pursuit  of  the  precious 
metal. 

He  next  presented  to  view  a  pure  river  of  the  water  of  life,  clear 
as  crystal,  running  through  the  midst  of  this  aerial  abode.  To  the 
audience,  this  river  was  well  enough  in  its  way  ;  but  not  so  inviting 
a  feature  to  New  Englanders,  as  it  would  have   been  to  caravan 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  \2^ 

travelers,  in  dry  and  torrid  regions.  Crystal  waters  are  a  very 
common  incident  —  they  pour  over  rocks  —  rush  through  the 
meadows  —  wash  the  feet  of  forests.  The  wheels  of  the  hay-carts 
roll  through  them,  dripping  sunlighted  drops,  in  showers.  Many 
of  the  audience  thought  they  had  seen  some  beautiful  views  in 
earthly  waters.  Pictures  of  cattle,  standing  knee  deep  in  the  sheeny 
flood,  flecked  with  green,  leafy  shadows,  or  flaming  with  sunset 
hues.  The  boys  remembered  the  splashing  of  little  birds,  wading 
in  shallow  places  —  and  the  white  pond  lilies  which  they  brought  to 
the  shore  as  soon  as  their  height  measured  the  length  of  a  lily 
stem.  They  thought  of  the  swimming  coves,  and  forgot  Heaven  ; 
thinking  only  of  a  green  terraqueous  summer;  but  finally  dropped 
the  subject  by  wondering  if  this  "  river  of  life "  ever  froze  over 
hard  enough  for  skatino:. 

The  preacher  passed  from  the  crystal  river  to  the  "  tree  of  life." 
He  assured  them  its  varied  fruits  matured  afresh  every  month. 
To  make  it  available  for  the  millions  of  glorified  spirits  who  might 
seek  its  allurements,  he  described  it  as  a  Banyan, —  its  outspreading 
branches  dropping  down  light  shafts,  and  taking  root ;  which  in  turn 
again  spread,  thus  extending  over  an  immeasurable  area.  It  would 
be  the  sacred  privilege  of  the  saints  to  pluck  these  delicious  fruits, 
such  as  the  scarlet  apple,  the  luscious  orange,  the  tawny  pome- 
granate, the  velvet  peach,  the  melting  fig  and  plantain;  besides 
other  heavenly  varieties,  never  tasted  by  mortals. 

His  voice  now  ceased.  He  seemed  to  have  gathered  his  audi- 
ence around  the  celestial  fruit,  and  left  them. 

In  anticipation  of  his  next  division,  he  extended  his  thin  hands 
over  the  people,  holding  them  there,  as  if  from  his  finger-tips  dis- 
tilled the  same  lofty  satisfaction  which  filled  his  own  thoughts. 
At  length,  vacant  straggling  smiles  beamed  forth  at  the  impressive 
announcement,  "There  is  no  sorrow  nor  crying  there!  " — A  bil- 
low of  smiles  passed  over  the  crowd  of  upturned  faces,  as  a  wave  of 
sunlight  rolls  over  grain  fields.  Those  of  the  congregation  broken 
down  by  hard  and  struggling  lives,  and  who  had  each  dwelt  from 
childhood  in  their  own  separate  vales  of  tears,  hollowed  out  by 
their  own  industry,  this  vale  being  almost  their  only  earthly  posses- 
sion,—  these  felt  a  strong  desire  for  the  solidity  of  golden  streets, 
and  the  smooth  tract  of  that  sea  of  glass  which  could   fwt  be  in- 


I  28  WHITE    MAY      AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

dented  into  "vales."  Those  worn  women  who  had,  through  a  te- 
dious life,  listened  to  crying  of  all  degrees,  from  the  early  cradle, 
almost  to  the  grave,  looked  up  refreshed. 

The  climax  was  reached  in  the  description  of  the  foundations  of 
Heaven  —  laid  in  precious  stones;  —  jasper,  sapphire,  emerald, 
topaz,  beryl  and  amethyst.  He  dwelt  upon  the  dazzling  brilliancy 
of  each  —  rainbow-hued  and  perpetual.  He  showed  the  twelve 
gates  —  each  gate  of  one  pearl  —  "a  soltaire." 

The  young  maidens  of  these  rural  districts,  who  had  never  seen  a 
diamond,  or  a  pearl,  except  in  dreams,  and  as  appertaining  only  to 
royalty  and  rank,  resolved  then  and  there,  that  heaven  should  be 
their  home;  —  they  would  go  forward  for  prayers  that  very  day. 
If,  in  the  course  of  Providence,  they  had  been  denied  the  lots  of 
princesses,  with  these  perishable  insignia  of  rank,  in  this  life,  they 
could  at  least  win  an  ever-enduring  palace,  whose  imperial  walls 
and  gates  should  glitter  with  gigantic  gems. 

Edmund  Stone  wept  with  joy  over  the  recognition  of  friends, 
on  hi£:h.  Mothers  would  know  their  children  —  children  would 
rush  to  parental  arms  — husbands  would  again  enfold  lost  wives  — 
and  vice  versa.  The  hunch-back  rose  on  his  toes,  turned  his  eyes 
upwards,  and  spread  his  palms  towards  the  ceiling;  as  if  to  clutch 
the  hands  of  unseen  spirits.  Happy  thought !  Theologians  had 
within  a  few  years  changed  the  locality  of  "  babes  and  sucklings," 
from  the  burning  pit  to  the  more  tender  nursery  of  the  ''  Saint's 
Rest."  They  had  considerately  and  paternally  placed  their  tender 
infantile  feet  on  the  golden   streets,  and  plumed  their  tiny  souls  with 


snowy  wmgs 


Hence  the  Rev.  Stone,  ever  a  hard  student  of  contested  doc- 
trines, chose  that  infants  should  flutter  on  cherubic  pinions  to  the 
pearly  gates,  like  white  doves,  to  welcome  the  arrival  of  long-lost 
mothers.  Attenuated  Mrs.  Limpsey  lifted  her  gaze  upon  the 
speaker  with  a  filmy  glow  of  joy  in  her  pale  gray  eyes. 

Dear  Mrs.  Limpsey  had  a  claim  upon  this  portion  of  the  dis- 
course that  few  others  could  boast.  In  her  youth  she  began  as  far 
back  in  the  Bible  as  the  time  of  Noah,  piously  intending  that  her 
life  should  be  an  illumination  of  all  its  pages,  to  Revelation.  But 
she  had  never  found  time  or  strength  to  get  beyond  the  first  com- 
mand, "  Be  ye  fruitful,  and  multiply,  and  replenish  the  earth." 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  1 29 

Mr.  Limpsey,  her  lawful  husband  and  protector,  perceiving  this 
spiiilual  want  of  his  wife  —  that  of  progress  in  the  "  Divine  life," — 
selected  for  her  the  most  life  giving  sentiment  of  Paul's  epistles. 
Wnile  stemming  the  tide  of  life's  cares  and  duties,  he  walked 
backwards  towards  his  consort,  ever  holding  aloft,  above  all  minor 
considerations,  this  flaming  torch  of  the  ancient  Scriptural  Bache- 
lor,— "Wives,  submit  yourselves  to  your  husbands."  Thus  did  she 
ever  feel  herself  supported  in  the  fulfillment  of  both  the  old  and 
the  new  dispensations. 

Mrs.  Limpsey  had  given  the  town  and  church  twenty-one  evi- 
dences of  her  obedience  to  the  command  given  to  Noah.  Thirteen 
of  these  pious  offerings  were  called  back  to  Heaven  at  an  age 
when  no  doubts  could  be  entertained  of  their  salvation ;  and  doubt- 
less they  were  now  flying  about  the  Golden  City,  awaiting  her  arrival. 
Blessed  thought!  A  faint  smile  flitted  in  among  the  wrinkles,  but 
flitred  as  quickly  away. 

Farmer  Windham,  who  had  parted  sorrowfully  at  the  graves  of 
four  wdv'es,  and  was  nov/  living  with  a  fifth  —  a  thoughtless  girl 
of  eighteen,  making  sad  havoc  with  his  earthly  possessions  —  cast 
a  "wishful  eye  "  upward  —  then  bent  his  head,  that  he  might  more 
vividly  anticipate  the  numerous  rapturous  embraces  awaiting  him 
in  the  world  beyond.  Thus  over  the  old  church,  smiles,  sighs  and 
tears  wreathed  the  high  pulpit,  and  formed  a  halo  around  the  head 
of  the  marvelous  prophet. 

The  lizard  changes  color,  conforming  to  the  objects  upon  which 
it  crawls.  So  changed  Edmund  Stone.  A  cloud  of  gloom  settled 
upon  his  narrow,  retreating  brow.  His  lips  compressed  —  his 
head  drooped.  Then  the  clenched  hands  lifted,  the  crooked  form 
straightened  ;  and  in  an  agonized  voice  he  shrieked, — 

"Who  among  the  congre2:ation  would  be  lost  in  hell? 

"  Who  would  go  down  into  the  lake  of  fire  and  brimstone  ? 

"Who,  amidst  flame  and  torture,  through  eternal  ages  would  cry, 
I'm  burning  !  I'm  burning  !  Tm  burning  ? 

"  Who  would  plunge  into  a  never-ending  eternity  of  torture, 
wherein  the  wrath  of  God  will  7ie7^er  be  appeased  ? 

Who  would  be  shut  from  the  pearly  gates  of  Heaven,  and  drop 
into  the  bottomless  pit  ;  where  the  smoke  of  their  torment  ascend- 
eth  up,  forever  and  ever  ? 


130  V/HITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

*'  No  limpid  '  river  of  life  '  in  Hell,  my  friends  ;  not  one  drop  of 
water  to  cool  your  parched  tongues  !  No  tree  for  the  healing  of 
your  pains  casts  its  shade  in  these  frightful  precincts." 

Taking  up  the  word  '■  forever,"  and  dilating  upon  its  length,  he 
slowly  disintegrated  a  mountain,  atom  by  atom.  He  allowed  a 
million  of  years  to  the  removal  of  each  infinitesimal  particle.  With 
impressive  pauses  interspersed,  he  guided  the  imagination  from  one 
mountain  to  a  whole  range  ;  and  from  one  range  to  all  the  known 
ranges  on  the  globe. 

"And  yet,  my  hearers,"  said  he,  "these  immeasurable  millions 
of  years  are  but  the  beginning  of  torment  "  He  pictured  whole 
nations  launched  into  this  Gehenna  ;  communities  and  individuals, 
hosts  unnumbered,  writhing,  cursing,  and  blaspheming  in  the  sul- 
phurous abyss.  A  fiendish  carnival  of  moans,  groans,  shrieks,  and 
curses,  carried  on  in  every  language  spoken  by  men.  He  con- 
tinued : 

"  Over  this  gulf  of  endless  death,  this  jargon  of  lost  souls  fetid 
with  unforgiven  sin,  hideous  volumes  of  black  vapors  continually 
lift  themselves  ;  like  funereal  plumes  overhanging  the  wailings  of 
the  damned.  These  deadly  vapois,  falling  back  whence  they 
came,  in  stifling  mephitic  showers,  kindle  afresh  with  their  noxious 
gases,  the  fires  that  never  die." 

The  hideous  acme  of  success  was  reached.  A  glowing  Tartarus 
had  been  uncovered,  and  its  suffocating  smoke  ascended  into  the 
very  nostrils  of  his  congregation.  Grim  horror  met  his  gaze  on 
every  hand.  The  pulpit  seemed  to  rise  up  monumented  from  the 
midst  of  damned  souls.  There  remained  only  one  point  to  be 
gained,  this  frozen  gloom  must  melt  to  repentant  tears. 

A  ready  tactician,  as  well  as  a  deep  theologian  was  Edmund 
Stone.     With  lowered  tone  as  in  subdued  despair  he  cried, — 

"No  God  is  there,  my  friends  ;  no  God  is  there  !  The  ineffable 
glory  and  mercy  of  His  face  are  veiled  from  the  sight  of  the  Lo6t. 
Amid  those  lapping  tongues  of  flame.  He  will  not  walk,  as  He 
walked  with  His  servant  Daniel  ;  your  deepest  prayers  will  never 
soften  His  terrible  anger.  Lost  once,  my  hearers,  lost  forever ! 
Lost !  lost !  lost !  " 

This  was  Friday,  the  last  of  the  active  labors  of  this  harvest 
week.     Therefore,  he  chose  the  great  moral  engine  of  Fear ;  which 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  I3I 

should  move  alike  the  young  and  the  old,  the  timid  and  the  indif- 
ferent. He  worked  its  levers  with  the  power  of  a  demon,  and  the 
sao-acity  of  a  connoisseur.  He  dragged  the  entire  reason  and  will 
of  Ills  hearers  after  him  by  its  sheer  mechanical  force,  whether  they 
would  or  no.  He  closed  by  giving  the  terrific  shriek  of  an  engme 
Hearing  the "  station."  His  shrill  wailing  cry  dropped  into  the 
square  box  pews  and  rose  among  the  dusky  galleries. 

"Woe,  woe,  woe,  unto  you  who  live  in  this  day  of  gospel  light ! 
if  you  turn  not  your  feet  from  the  black  abyss  of  a  yawning^  Hell. 
Choose  ye  this  hour  —  this  moment,  your  future  abode?  Will  ye 
dwell  forever  in  eternal  fire  ?  or  will  ye  enter  the  pearly  gates,  and 
walk  the  golden  streets  ?  The  great  Jehovah  is  here,  awaiting 
your  decision.  Will  you  let  him  depart,  counting  this  day  as  your 
last  opportunity  ?  Behold  your  Savior,  knocking  at  the  door  !  He 
beseeches  admittance  !  Come !  come  !  "  and  with  both  hands 
extended,  he  descended  to  the  area  within  the  anxious  seats,  sing- 
ing as  he  went,  this  hymn  ;  entitled,  "  Hell,  or  the  vengeance  of 
God." 

"  With  holy  fear,  and  humble  tongue 
The  dreadful  God  our  souls  adore ; 
Reverence  and  awe  become  the  tongue 
That  speaks  the  terror  of  his  power. 

Far  in  the  deep  where  darkness  dwells. 

The  land  of  horror  and  despair, 
Justice  has  built  a  dismal  Hell, 

And  piled  her  stores  of  torment  there. 

Eternal  plagues,  and  heavy  chains  ! 

Tormenting  racks,  and  fiery  coals  — 
And  darts  to  inflict  immortal  pains, 

Dyed  in  the  blood  of  damned  souls. 

There  Satan,  the  first  sinner,  lies  — 

And  roars,  and  bites  his  iron  bands  ! 
In  vain  the  rebel  strives  to  rise  — 

Crushed  with  the  weight  of  both  God's  hands! 

There,  guilty  ghosts  of  Adam's  race 

Shriek  out !  and  howl  beneath  Thy  rod  : 

Once  they  could  scorn  a  Savior's  grace  — 
But  they  incensed  a  dreadful  God  ! 


132  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Tremble  ray  soul,  and  kiss  the  Son, 

Sinners  obey  the  Savior's  call  ! 
Else  your  damnation  hastens  on  ! 

And  Hell  gapes  wide,  to  wait  your  fall." 

An  appalling  sense  of  the  wrath  to  come,  distorted  the  lineaments 
of  all  those  who  had  hitherto  remained  unmoved.  The  seats  filled 
quickly.  No  essential  mention  was  made  of  their  sins.  It  was 
an  understood  thing  —  this  total  depravity.  They  were  to  be  saved 
then  and  there,  by  the  acceptance  of  Christ.  Sin  was  believed  to 
be  incorporated  into  their  bein^.  Sin  flowed  with  vitality  through 
every  vein.  Hereditary  sin  permeated  every  pore,  and  electrified 
every  ficre  1  —  Sin  in  mankind,  like  the  intestine  fires  of  earth,  was 
believed  to  be  the  dangerous  core  of  a  specious  surface.  Its 
proper  manifestations  were  seen  in  overt  acts,  —  it  was  known  to 
exist  by  Vesuvius,  or  ^Vr^w^^^// deeds  —  of  murders,  robberies,  as- 
sassinations, piracies. 

The  town  of  Cioudspire  considered  itself  happily  free  from  these 
volcanic  phenomena.  Nevertheless,  the  elfish  depravity  of  Adam 
was  believed  to  have  been  implanted  in  every  nature. 

Still,  other  moral  phenomena  of  a  less  turbulent  character,  daily 
occured — phenomena  which  neither  gave  offence,  nor  excited  con- 
troversy,—  which  no  more  rufiled  the  religious  complacency  of  the 
church,  than  summer  breezes,  or  sifting  snows. 

There  was  the  hard  grasping  hand  of  greed  —  which  wrung  the 
wages  of  the  poor  to  a  mere  pittance.  There  were  those,  who, 
when  besought  by  famishing  souls  for  the  bread  of  love,  and  com- 
passion, gave  "a  stone.".  There  was  noble,  earnest  womanhood, 
crushed  to  the  abject  endurance  and  silence  of  "menials."  There 
were  those  denominated  in  the  New  Testament  as  "  thieves,"  who 
robbed  girlhood  of  its  innocence,  and  fair  fame—  then  left  their  vic- 
tims by  the  wayside,  to  die  of  shame,  and  despair  ;—  and  then  there 
were  those,  in  the  church  and  out  of  it,  who  "  passed  by  on  ihe  other 
side."  There  were  those  who  made  color  the  fierce  pass-word  to 
gaunt  misery,  degradation,  and  crime  —  and  then  thanked  God 
they  were  not  as  black  men  were.  There  were  tongues,  forked 
tongues  of  scandal;  whose  scathing  fire  equaled  the  "lapping 
flames  "  described  by  Edmund  Stone,  -tongues  which  roused  fra- 
ternal hatred  into  endless  bickerings,  and  blackened  everything 
'  green  and  beautiful,"  in  life. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  1 33 

These  things,  and  more,  daily  passed  unheeded.  They  were 
regarded  as  tlie  natural  elements  of  society,  and  outside  the  radii 
of  their  gospel,  and  creed. 

Cloudspire  gospel  was  a  Mosaic  fossil —  as  sacredly  preserved  as 
the  bones  of  a  canonized  saint  Cloudspire  creed  was  a  venerable 
"antique."  It  was  well  rooted  in  the  garden  of  Eden,—  it  grew 
apace  in  the  Ark  of  the  Deluge.  It  still  bore  the  sacrificial  blood 
stains  of  the  slain  bulls  and  rams  of  Solomon's  lime,  —  and  the 
withered  threads  of  Jonah's  gOurd  clung  in  fantastic  tracery  about 
it.  It  was  a  grim  old  century  plant ;  which  blossomed  only  at  cen- 
tennial, or  millennial  periods.  The  pale  green  mold  of  ages  laid 
upon  its  thick  fibrous  leaves.  It  blossomed  last  at  the  crucifixion 
of  the  Savior;  and  its  vitality  seemed  shocked,  rather  than  quick- 
ened, by  that  great  event.  Its  growth  ceased  at  the  tomb  of  a  dead 
Christ,  Years  were  yet  to  melt  into  the  past,  before  there  should 
spring  from  its  sluggish  heart  the  inflorescenceof  humanity,  charity, 
peace,  and  reconciliation,  which  should  have  been  the  first  fruits 
of  His  death.  The  witchcraft  of  creed  mummeries,  had  weirdly 
dabbled  with  His  blood,  obliterated  the  Golden  Rule,  and  dazed 
the  eye  of  conscience. 

While  the  Rev.  Stone,  assisted  by  the  congregation,  was  singing 
the  aforesaid  hymn,  nothing  remained  to  be  done  by  those  under 
condemnation,  but  to  accept  the  waiting  God,  and  Chiist ;  or  to  turn 
their  backs,  and  pertinaciously  refuse  them  —  both  of  which  high 
privileges  were  granted  to  these  depraved  creatures,  by  the  received 
traditions  of  "the  Fathers." 

The  harvest  of  souls  that  day  was  unprecedented  !  The  hunch- 
back was  regarded  with  a  shade  of  envy  by  the  younger  portion  of 
the  ministry ;  but  was  declared  by  his  elders,  a  sanctified  instru- 
ment of  grace. 

Night  shades,  and  a  heavy  snow-storm  w^ere  falling  without. 
After  the  usual  notices  w^ere  read  by  the  pastor,  the  Town  Clerk 
rose  fiom  the  singers'  seat  in  the  gallery,  and  from  a  slip  of  paper 
cried, — 

'•  WilliajH  Steele  of  South  Ca?'oimaj  and  Lucy  Clarendo7i  of  Cloud- 
spire^ Massachusetts^  i?itend  f?iarf'iage. 

Consternation  ensued.  The  hand  of  the  Lord  was  surprisingly 
stayed,  by  the  piping  voice  of  the  diminutive  official.      Flashing 


134  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

indignation  lurked  in  many  a  maiden's  eye.  Mothers  bit  their  h"ps 
from  chagrin,  —  and  the  astounded  visages  of  hopeful  fathers,  fell 
with  disappointment  to  the  floor. 

The  matrimonial  prize  in  the  protracted  meeting  had  been 
drawn,  and  the  brown  old  meeting  house  was  left  to  itself. 

The  blustering  snow-storm  careering  on  the  north  wind,  kept  all 
at  home  for  the  evening.  It  roared  in  the  cavernous  chimneys, 
and  howled  at  the  window  panes.  Tumblers  of  "  sling",  and  '•  hot 
punch  "  passed  freely  around  the  blazing  fires.  Tongues  were  flip- 
pant. The  "  Hill  of  Zion  "  was  made  to  "yield  "  a  thousand  sacred 
sweets. " 

The  clergy,  and  those  of  the  laity  without  marriageable  daugh- 
ters, were  unanimous  in  the  braise  of  the  Southern  visitor,  and  of 
his  efforts  in  the  revival.  He  was  evidently  a  "  man  of  God." 
His  talents  and  influence  were  greatly  to  be  esteemed  in  any  com- 
munity. His  departure  from  New  England  was  decided  to  be  a 
loss  ;  but  it  was  conceded  to  be  a  great  gain  to  the  South,  where 
he  had  taken  up  his  abode. 

Fanny  stepped  out  of  the  church  into  the  whitened  air,  wearing 
a  joyous  face.  Her  spiritual  yearnings  were  in  a  measure  stilled. 
Within  its  walls,  she  had  endeavored  to  yield  implicit  faith  to  the 
mysteries  of  a  creed  which  held  within  it  an  angry,  and  implacable 
God,  and  a  vicarious  crucified  Christ.  She  considered  it  a  high 
privilege  to  meet  with  Their  chosen  people,  to  whose  keeping, 
doubtless,  was  committed  the  redemption  of  souls. 

The  double  green  doors  were  closed,  and  locked  upon  the  sol- 
emn arcana  of  creed,  and  the  speculative  faith  of  believers.  The 
"  Steele  "  Bible,  the  price  of  innocence,  and  the  holiest  affection, 
was  folded  in  its  linen  vestment.  The  costly  silver  Font  with  the 
three  brooding  angels,  rested  in  its  velvet  lined  box,  in  a  secure 
niche  beneath  the  pulpit,  guiltily  guarding  its  dark  secret. 

Fanny  carried  nothing  with  her  from  the  great  Throne-room  of 
the  universal  King,  but  her  personal  depravity.  It  was  outside  the 
church  that  the  perfections  of  the  great  Creator  had  been  revealed 
to  her  consciousness,  and  affections. 

The  deacon's  box  sleigh,  with  a  tumble  of  "  buffaloes "  and 
blankets  awaited  them  at  the  steps — Henry  in  his  warm  overcoat 
and  mittens,  sat  on  the  front  seat,  soothing  the  fretfulness  of  Czar 
and  Sultan. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  I35 

*'  Deacon  Steele  !  "  said  Fanny,  "  may  I  ask  the  favor  to  ride  on  the 
front  seat  with  the  driver,  that  I  may  see  your  beautiful  horses  ?  " 

This  flattering  request  put  the  deacon  in  an  indulgent  humor. 

"Yes!  yes!  climb  over  there,  you  little  horse  jockey!  but  you'll 
freeze,  wont  you .''  " 

"  Thank  you,  deacon,  no  !   I  like  the  snow!  " 

"Yes!  yes  !  you  like  every  thing  under  the  blue  heavens,  I  be- 
lieve. There  !  let  me  tuck  you  in.  Look  out  for  her,  Hen.  Some 
of  these  '  thank-ye-marms  '  '11  toss  her  out !  " 

Prudence  White's  pale,  sanctimonious  face  looked  up  to  her  and 
said,  "  Come  down  here  !  child.  That  seat's  the  place  for  men ! 
Now's  the  time  to  think  of  something  else,  besides  horses  ! " 

"Tut!  tut!  Miss  White,"  curtly  replied  the  deacon;  't  won't 
hurt  the  girl  !  She  knows  there  ain't  such  a  span  in  town  as  mine. 
She  knows  it  as  well  as  I  do."  • 

The  high  spirited  creatures  dashed  away,  round  the  old  church, 
down  the  hill,  through  the  swamp,  among  the  dark  green  hemlocks 
cloaked  with  ermine,  between  fence  ra'ls  trimmed  as  prettily  as 
Fanny's  hood,  wdth  down. 

"  He  giveth  his  snowlike  wool  ;  thought  she.  "  His  glory  is 
above  the  earth,  and  heavens." 

She  felt  herself  very  near  to  Him  who  made  the  earth  so  tran- 
scendently  beautiful.  Every  moment  of  this  ride  was  spent  in 
garnering  up  into  her  soul,  the  beauty  about  her.  Henry  ventured 
to  bresk  the  silence  in  a  manner  which  he  knew  would  not  be 
offensive  to  the  deacon,  and  at  the  same  time  would  interest  his 
companion, 

"  Did  you  hear  that.  Miss  Fanny?" 

'•The  bells,  Henry.?" 

"Yes,  Sultan  is  proud  of  his  bells,  but  the  thick  air  muffles 
them.  He  gave  that  sprihg  to  shake  the  music  out  of  'em. 
W^atch  Czar,  Miss  Fanny,  and  he  will  do  the  same  thing." 

"  There  he  goes  now  !  "  she  replied,  with  a  burst  of  laughter. 
"  What  a  shower  of  music  he  shakes  out  of  his  bells."  Snow-flakes 
were  dancing  in  and  out  of  their  fluffy,  flurrying  manes,  and  cling- 
ing to  their  flying  foretops. 

Henry  directed  her  attention  to  this,  adding, — 

"  There's  a  fresh  drift  across  the  road  just  ahead ;  keep  your  eye 
on  them,  now." 


136  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

He  drew  a  taut  rein,  and  braced  his  feet  anew.  With  a  rear 
and  a  snort,  they  plunged  in,  shoulder  deep.  The  light  snow  flew 
like  a  cloud,  powdering  their  silken  coats  from  head  to  heels.  Ar- 
rows of  frozen  breath  darted  from  panting  nostrils,  as  they  went 
leaping  and  bounding  on. 

'ihe  deacon  disentangled  himself  from  the  buffaloes,  and  stood 
looking  over  Fanny's  head. 

"  How's  this  for  sleighing  ?     How's  the  horses  now  ? " 

"  Handsomer  than  ever,  sir,  and  this  kind  of  sleighing  is  delight- 
ful." 

"  But  I  mistrust  that  one  half  of  your  errand  up  here  to  this  seat 
was  to  sit  with  Hal." 

I  am  very  glad  if  my  sitting  here  is  any  comfort  to  Henr)^  for 
his  life  is  lonely  enough.     A  few  pleasant  words  cost  no  trouble." 

"  I  thought  you  might  persuade  Hal  to  go  forwards  for  prayers. 
In  this  wonderful  outpouring  of  God's  spirit,  we  all  hoped  he 
would  not  forget  his  never  dying  soul." 

"  I  did  ask  him  to  go,  but  he  said  he  must  be  excused.  He  can 
pray  anywhere,  you  know,  Deacon  Steele." 

"  That  is  true,  Fanny,  but  when  we  refuse  God's  appointed 
means  of  grace,  we  are  not  apt  to  get  his  blessing  elsewhere,  in 
our  own  willful  way.  There  was  a  nice  place  left  for  his  color  at 
the  altar  ;  he  could  have  knelt  all  alone  by  himself.  And  God  is  no 
respecter  of  persons  in  His  plan  of  salvation." 

"Yes,  I  saw  that  empty  seat,"  said  Fanny  in  a  sorrowful  tone  — 
"And  I  offered  to  go  and  kneel  with  him,  in  it,  but  he  said,  '  No, 
Miss  Fanny :  you  don't  know  all  I  know.'  So  I  didn't  urge  him 
any  more,     God  is  merciful,  you  know,  sir." 

"True!  He's  merciful,  or  he  wouldn't  receive  such  totally  de- 
praved beings  as  we  are  into  His  favor.  But  Hal  should  know  He 
is  a  jealous,  and  avenging  God  also." 

The  horses  were  wallowing,  springing,  and  panting  in  successive 
drifts. 

"  Let  them  go,  Hal,"  said  the  deacon.  "  They  like  to  frolic  in 
the  snow.     *t  won't  hurt  'em." 

The  candles  were  already  winking  in  Mrs.  Steele's  kitchen  ;  in- 
viting the  cold  wa)farers  to  enter.  There  was  the  usual  stamping 
of  feet,   shaking  of  cloaks,  hats  and   shawls,  before  entering    the 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  137 

room  for  supper.  This  was  the  kitchen  —  comfortable  and  tidy  as 
ever.  The  old  stove  roared  a  welcome.  The  oval  braided  cloth 
mats  around  it  invited  cold  feet.  The  tea  kettle  instituted  a  chat- 
tering cantata,  entirely  irrelevant  to  "  revival  weeek." 

The  change  from  the  desolate  interior  ot  the  meeting-house  to 
the  papered  walls  of  this  room,  was  more  than  agreeable.  .  The 
scarlet  nasturtions,  and  blue  bachelor's  buttons  woven  into  its  bor- 
ders, suggested  thoughts  of  summer  and  gardens.  The  ''  dark 
abyss  of  damned  souls,"  slid  out  of  mind.  The  "  New  Jerusalem  " 
on  high,  lost  attraction  before  a  bountiful  spread  table, 

"This  night  is  a  stinger,  mother,"  said  the  deacon  to  his  wife, 
who  was  lifting  the  warm  viands  to  the  table  ; — but  its  worth  whiie 
to  be  out  in  blustering  weather,  to  hear  such  preaching  as  we  heard 
to-day.  Edmund  Stone  can't  be  out-done  in  the  terrors  of  the 
second  death." 

"  Was  there  many  hardened  sinners  melted  to-day  ?  "  she  asked 
in  her  sotto  sostenuto  voice,  which  was  most  religiously  reserved  for 
this  kind  of  topics. 

"  Yes,  wife.  Our  w^ork's  about  done !  It's  been  a  profitable 
and  savin'  time." 

"  Was  your  brother  William's  intended  at  the  meeting.^  —  I  mean 
Lucy.  It  wouldn't  be  well  for  him  to  be  unequally  yoked  together 
with  an  unbeliever  !  " 

The  tone  grew  more  nasal  and  puerile,  still." 

"Yes,"  chimed  in  Prudence  White  in  a  pitiful  whine.  "Yes! 
Religion  should  be  the  first  consideration  ui  a  wife  for  William. 
His  prayers  should  be  strengthened  by  hers." 

"  I  believe  Lucy  '  has  a  hope  '  already  —  I  am  told  so,"  said  the 
deacon.     "William  questioned  her  on  it." 

"  She  ought  to  be  under  the  guardianship  of  the  church." 

"  So  I  thuik.  Prudence.  There's  no  safer  place  in  the  world  than 
the  church  !  "  quoth  Mrs.  Steele,  as  she  passed  the  tea  to  her  guest. 
There  !  Prudence.  I've  made  your  tea  as  strong  as  lye;  for  I  tho't 
you'd  be  kinder  nerved  up  to-night." 

'•  Yes,  Miss  Steele  —  the  spirit  is  willin',  but  the  flesh  is  weak.  I 
take  my  tea  strong." 

It  was  time  for  the  deacon  to  support  the  reputation  of  his 
brother  ;  for  it  was  not  falling  into  honeyed  mouths.  He  therefore 
came  to  the  rescue. 


138  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

"Well,  we're  all  one  family,  as  it  were  ;  and  I'll  tell  you  what  I 
know.  William  will  not  enter  into  the  holy  bonds  of  matrimony 
with  Lucy,  till  she's  been  baptized,  and  taken  into  the  bosom  of 
the  church.  He  says  them  Southerners  are  the  most  religious  peo- 
ple he  has  ever  found, —  and  a  person  that  isn't  a  church-member 
can't  be  reckoned  among  'em.  Take  another  cut  of  this  roaster  of 
pork.  Miss  White.  The  laborer  is  worthy  of  his  hire.  You've 
worked  hard  in  the  Lord's  vineyard  to-day." 

"Without  praisin'  myself,  deacon,  I'm  never  happier  than  when 
I'm  in  the  Lord's  service.  Ill  take  another  potatce,  and  a  few 
spoonfulls  of  gravy,   and  a  couple  of  onions  —  I'm  very  fond  of 


onions." 


"  I  doubt  if  that  old  miser  Conchlan  would  have  taken  one  step 
from  the  wrath  to  come,  without  your  persuasion.  Prudence  ;  you 
fairly  dragged  him  up  to  be  prayed  for." 

"  Father,  was  it  that  rich  old  bachelor,  you  mean  ? "  enquired 
Mary. 

The  canting  twang  was  forgotten,  in  Prudence's  haste  to  reply. 
There  was  an  unusual  sprightliness  in  the  words, — 

"  Yes,  dear,  the  same  man.  His  case  seemed  to  weigh  upon  me 
from  the  beginning  of  the  revival.  I'll  take  another  cup  o'tea, 
Miss  Steele.  These  China  cups  o'yourn  air  rather  small.  Fanny, 
will  you  pass  me  the  bread  ?  I'm  very  fond  o'light  wheat  bread  ; 
Mary,  give  me  a  little  more  quince  sauce  ;  I'm  very  fond  o'  quince." 

Two  kinds  of  cake  graced  the  table.  Both  were  passed  to  Pru- 
dence, who  took  a  piece  of  each,  and  said, — 

"  You  make  such  nice  riz  cake,  i\Iiss  Steele  ;  and  I  am  very  fond 
of  cup  cake  too." 

Two  kinds  of  pie  were  next  offered.  Prudence  regaled  her 
weariness  by  accepting  both  mince  and  cream  ;for  mince  and  cream 
were  the  pies  she  was  very  fond  of. 

Hal  and  Foxey  came  in  from  the  barn  together.  They  were  the 
best  of  friends.  Hal  took  his  supper  from  the  small  side  table.  A 
bit  of  the  pork,  several  potatoes,  a  cube  of  rye  bread,  and  a  piece 
of  mince  pie,  with  rye  crust. 

Fanny  added  to  the  plain  meal  by  transferring  to  his  plate  her 
piece  of  cake,  which  she  had  left  uneaten.  Mary  and  her  mother 
"  did  up  the  dishes;"  then  all  repaired  to  the  warm  little  parlor. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND       BLACK   JUNE.  1 39 

The  Others  took  their  knitting,  while  Fanny  drew  from  her 
pocket,  Aunt  Letty's  caps,  now  nearly  finished. 

"What  now  Fanny?"  asked  the  deacon.  "Ruffles!  ruffles!  I 
think  you're  pretiy  enough  without  ruffles  !  " 

"  These  ruffles  are  not  for  myself,  sir." 

"Who  then?" 

"  They  are  caps  for  black  Letty,  down  by  the  brook." 

"  By  George  !  you're  hunting  up  all  the  black  folki  !  Hey  ?  " 

No  glow  of  shame  reddened  her  cheeks  at  this  thrust ;  rather, 
the  enthusiasm  in  her  eyes  intensified.  "  Do  you  know  Deacon 
Steele,  that  I  want  to  be  a  foreign  missionary  among  people  of 
their  color?  My  mother  opposes  this  desire.  vShe  tells  me  that 
charity  begins  at  home.  She  says  there  is  missionary  work  all 
about  here,  for  every  good  Christian  to  do." 

She  held  up  her  work. 

'•  Here  are  my  small  beginnings." 

A  sacred  frown  "from  on  high,"  lighted  on  Prudence  White's 
brow.  She  inquired  if  Fanny's  missionary  zeal  led  her  to  seek  out 
the  needy  among  the  white  poor,  as  well  ? 

"There  are  none  about  us,  so  poor  as  the  colored  people,  —  and 
I  must  acknowledge.  Miss  White,  my  sympathies  are  strongest  for 
the  most  destitute." 

"  My  child !  there  is  a  Bible  reason  for  this  poverty.  These  chil- 
dren of  Ham  are  under  the  direct  curse  of  God^  and  they  will  be,  for 
centuries  to  come.  Fanny,  they  are  '  hewers  of  wood,  and  drawers 
of  water'  —  servants  to  us  white  people.  That  kind  of  labor  always 
gets  small  wages.  I  never  see  a  black  face,  but  that  text  comes 
right  up  before  me,  '  Cursed  be  Canaan  !  *  " 

"  Then  it  seems  to  me,  we  should  be  doubly  watchful,  that  we 
may  supply  their  necessities  !  "  argued  Fanny. 

"  You  see,  my  dear,  you  are  too  young  to  examine  these  things, 
as  I  have.  It  has  been  the  study  of  my  life.  What  is  to  be,  inust 
be  !  They  are  to  be  poor,  and  despised.  We  are  not  to  meddle 
with  God's  decrees,  or  his  curses.  It's  dangerous  work !  This 
passage,  '  Touch  not  the  accursed  thing',  points  out  our  christian 
duty  towards  them,  as  plain  as  a  light  set  on  a  hill.  It's  the  height 
of  audacity  to  do  it,  and  I've  heard  this  question  argued  by  the 
greatest  divines." 

For  some  time  past,  Mrs.  Steele  had  vainly  endeavored  to  bring 


!40  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

the  middle  of  her  seam  needle  in  conjunction  with  the  closing 
words  of  somebody's  opinion  ;  which  event  happened  at  this  fort- 
unate moment.  Dropping  the  stocking  on  her  knee,  she  assumed 
an  air  of  as  much  sternness  as  she  could  command. 

She  resolved  to  add  to  the  arguments  against  Ham  and  all  his 
progeny.  She  would  let  her  light  shine,  in  rebuking  this  young 
girl's  unworthy,  and  untaught  zeal. 

This  dogmatical  purpose,  however,  was  but  a  comic  mockery,  — 
for,  all  fixed  purposes,  and  stamina  of  character  had  been  crushed 
out  of  her,  long  ago.  In  every  dilemma  of  reason  or  judgment,  the 
jaded  woman  had  relied  upon  the  authorities.  "J/)'  husband,''  and 
"'■  our  miiustcr'\  were  the  two  lawful  w^eights  she  threw  into  the  un- 
certain scales  of  her  enfeebled  intellect.  By  these,  she  weighed 
the  subtle  essence  of  metaphysics,  Mosaic  law,  and  the  Christian 
dispensation.  If,  in  hours  of  her  w^eariness,  and  nothingness,  her 
soul  dared  to  assert  its  natural  right  to  growth,  and  its  hatred  to 
serfdom,  '^  My  husband'''  was  thrown  into  the  troublesome  balance. 
Weariness,  and  nothingness  kicked  the  beam. 

If  in  contemplation  of  the  gibbet,  the  scaffold,  or  the  hangman's 
rope,  any  weak  womanly  chills  of  horror  disturbed  her  peace,  and 
joy  in  believing,  she  tied  "-our  minister  ^\  to  the  victim's  heels  ;  and 
plumb  through  the  drop,  went  both,  together.  After  thus  balan- 
ancing  affairs,  she  pursued  the  even  tenor  of  the  christian  way. 
Since  the  arrival  of  their  Southern  guest,  she  felt  that  her  sphere 
of  reference  was  safely  enlarged.  There  were  now,  '^  Mr.  Steele's 
brother'',  My  husband  ",  and  "  Our  minister''. 

To  return ;  the  seam  needle  still  held  the  others  in  abeyance. 
The  deacon's  wife  raised  her  hand;  the  fore-finger  was  apparently 
directed  to  the  eluding  point  to  be  made.  Like  the  shadow  of  a 
vision,  this  point  was  melting  away. 

What  a  hand  to  confute  the  equality  of  Ham's  race!  —  What  a 
hand  to  fix  the  stigma  of  bondage  upon  color !  No  artist  would 
have  chosen  it  as  a  model  of  God's  fair  handiwork.  That  hand  in 
marble  would  have  shocked  the  sensibilities,  and  disgusted  the 
tastes  of  woman's  worshippers.  Its  natural  proportions  were  de- 
stroyed—  the  palm  broadened  by  hard  usage  —  the  once  taper- 
fingers  blunted  and  flattened  at  the  tips — the  nails  once  pinken  as 
rose  petals,  now  narrow,  and  awry  —  the  edges  broken    into    the 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK  JUNE.  I4t 

quick  —  the  joints  swollen  and  deformed.     In  texture,  it  was  rough 
and  horny  —  in  color,  begrinimed  and  steamed  to  redness. 

The  bent  fore-finger  made  crooked  aim  at  the  point  in  question. 
She  opened  her  lips  and  said  ; 

"  Yes  !  Miss  White ;  you  are  right ;  for  Mr.  Steele's  brother 
says  he  never  was  so  solemnly  impressed  with  the  truth  of  the 
prophecies  of  the  Lord,  as  he  has  been  in  South  Carolina.  lie 
says  the  words  of  the  Lord  which  he  spoke  throu,i:;h  the  lips  of  His 
servant  Noah,  '  Cursed  be  Canaan  !  a  servant  of  servants  shall  he 
be  unto  his  brethren  ;  '  and  this  other  text  of  Scripture,  'Blessed 
be  the  Lord  God  of  Shem  !  and  Canaan  shall  be  his  servant',  are 
wonderful !  Mr.  Steele's  brother  says  it's  enough  to  make  an  infidel 
a  Christian,  to  see  how  that  curse  is  fulfilled  down  there,  so  many 
years  after,  in  this  Christian  country  !  " 

Oh,  yes,  Miss  Steele ;  we  are  a  favored  people,  to  live  in  an  age 
when  we  see  with  our  own  eyes,  the  fulfillment  of  prophecy ;  to  see 
with  our  own  eyes  that  our  land  is  the  chcsen  land,  where  God  ful- 
fills His  written  word.  I  hoped  to  have  had  more  conversation 
with  your  husband's  brother  ;  but  his  selection  of  a  helpmeet  has 
taken  him  from  us.  What  other  information  respecting  this 
doomed  race  of  Ham,  has  he  given  you .''  I  have  a  great  desire  to 
know  how  they  bear  this  yoke  of  slavery." 

•  "Well,  Prudence,  he  says  the  white  people  and  these  black 
slaves  down  there,  are  as  separate  from  each  other,  as  the  skies  is 
above  the  earth.  He  says  there  'pears  to  be  a  natural  disgust  for 
them,  writ  on  the  hearts  of  the  white  gentlemen  and  their  families. 
They  don't  know  nothin'  but  to  plant  rice  and  cotton,  and  a  little 
corn.     They  can't  read  a  word,  nor  write  their  names," 

"  Miss  Steele,  how  many  of  these  children  of  Ham  does  one 
Southern  gentleman  generally  own  ?  " 

"  My  husband's  gone  out ;  he  knows  it  all.  But  I  believe  he 
said  one  gentleman  had  five  hundred  sometimes — all  living  in 
rows  of  cabins  away  from  the  master's  house." 

"Mother,"  said  Mary,  "  every  gentleman  don't  have  so  many — 
some  have  one  hundred  —  and  some  have  fifty,  and  less.' 

"  Law  sakes  !  "  cried  Prudence, — 

"  Now  you  don't  say  !  a  hundred  and  up'ards  to  work  for  you  all 
the  year  round,  for  nothing !     No  wonder  them  Southerners  are  so 


142  WHITE    MAY      AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

rich  !  and  Miss  Steele,  I've  heard  say  that  these  Southern  ladies 
don't  lift  their  fingers  to  any  kind  of  work  ;  that  their  hands  are 
lily  white.  So  these  Canaanites  must  work  in  the  houses,  too. 
Do  they  take  to  cookin'  ?  " 

"  Tell    her    about   uncle    William's    cook,    mother  ;    suggested 

Marv. 

"Yes,  child  !  Mr.  Steele's  brother  had  a  nigger  woman  to  do  his 
cookin',  and  he  lived  as  well  as  he  could  wish  to.  Let's  see  !  what 
was  her  name,  Mary  ?  " 

"  Isabel." 

"  Yes,  Ishul.  She  knew  enough  to  make  his  bed  ;  and  he  made 
her  dust  and  sweep  his  room,  as  well  as  he  could  expect,  down 
there." 

But,  Miss  Steele,  I  don't  see  how  William  could  bear  to  have  the 
great  black  thing  round  in  his  room,  handlin'  things.  It  would  put 
me  out,  dreadfully." 

"Oh!  she  only  came  in  after  he' d  gofie  out.  He  didn't  see  her. 
She  cooked  in  a  little  cabin  away  from  the  house,  and  slept  there 
o'nights,  as  they  always  do.  Why,  Prudence  White!  he's  got  a 
little  nigger  to  wait  on  him.  You  see  he  brings  in  all  the  victuals 
to  William.  So  he  don't  see  that  black  wench,  as  he  says  they 
call  'em  down  there,  at  all.  And  this  little  nigger  brings  his  horse 
to  the  door,  all  saddled,  and  stands  there  with  his  hat  off,  till  Wil- 
liam comes  out.  Then  he  always  makes  a  low  bow,  and  scrapes 
his  foot  back,  out  of  respect  to  him.  Why,  Miss  White  !  my  hus- 
bands  brother  don't  so  much  as  draw  a  pail  of  water,  or  pull  his 
own  boots  off." 

Prudence  dropped  her  knitting  into  her  lap  in  astonishment,  pon- 
dering upon  the  differ  ence  between  her  own  hard  working  life,  and 
that  of  the  Southerners. 

"  I  declare  ! "  she  said,  "  it  must  be  an  edifying  life  to  live,  espec- 
ially when  we  know  that  to  be  waited  upon  without  liftin'  your 
hand  to  a  stroke  o'  work,  is  fulfil lin'  the  Scripter,  and  was  fore-or- 
davied  by  God.  A  person  would  have  so  much  time  for  meditation 
and  prayer." 

Mary  agreed  enthusiastically. 

"  That  must  be  so  !  for  father  says  Uncle  William  has  grown  in 
grace  since  he  went   South.     I've  heard   a  great    many  say  that 


WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK   JUNE.  1 43 

Uncle  William  is  more  active  in  the  advancementof  Christ's  king- 
dom now,  than  when  he  was  in  the  Theological  Seminary." 

The  deacon  brought  in  the  customary  evening  treat, —  hickory 
nuts  cracked,  a  tray  of  spicy  reds,  and  a  pitcher  of  cider.  He  said 
to  Fanny, — 

"  Look  up  here  !  Hal  has  been  to  work,  pickin'  out  a  saucer  of 
wa'nut  meats  for  you.  I  don'tknow  what  that  Hal  wouldn't  do  for 
Fanny." 

Prudence  rolled  up  her  knitting,  and  put  the  needles  in  the  tin 
sheath. 

"I've  been  expectin'  these  refreshments  ; "  she  purred.  "I'm 
very  fond  of  apples,  and  nuts,  and  cider.  We've  been  havin'  some 
edifying  conversation  while  you  were  gone." 

"  Well,  its  a  fact !  You  women  can  talk  more  religion,  in  half  an 
hour,  than  we  men  can  in  a  week.  Religion's  more  nat'ral  to 
women  folks.  St.  Paul  forbids  'em  to  speak  and  teach  in  public 
—  but  there's  a  broad  field  for  women  to  practise  religion  at  ho7ne, 
and  in  their  closets.  If  we  hadn't  had  so  many  prayin',  women  in 
our  town,  I  don't  think  we  should  ever  send  out  so  many  young 
ministers  to  p'int  a  fallen  world  to  salvation." 

"My  husband's  right,"  chimed  in  his  wife.  "I've  been  to  them 
female  prayer  meetin's  regular,  for  ten  years  ;  and  most  of  our 
church  women  have  done  the  same.  No  rain,  nor  snow,  nor  sun, 
nor  mowin'  time,  nor  harvest  ever  kept  us  from  meetin'  at  the 
throne  of  grace." 

"  And  you  had  your  reward  wife. —  Take  another  apple.  Prudence  ; 
and  another  tumbler  of  cider." 

"  I'll  try  a  greenin'  this  time."     Then  she  addressed  Mrs.  Steele. 

"  Your  reward  has  been  in  a  blessin'  on  your  prayers.  If  I  re- 
member, ten  years  ago  you  told  me  that  you  had  took  up  William, 
and  was  strong  in  prayer  for  him.  We've  seen  him  with  our  own 
eyes  ;  and  witnessed  how  manfully  he  stands  up  for  God,  and  His 
divine  ordinances." 

''That's  true  ;  as  my  husband  says,  we  had  our  reward  in  seein' 
so  many  of  our  young  men  rise  up  to  put  down  the  '  man  of  sin,' 
and  to  gird  on  the  armor  of  Christ — to  fight  valiantly  against  the 
powers  of  darkness.  There  was  the  widow  Brown's  two  boys. 
We  made  them  a  subject  of  prayer,  for  a    whole  year; — but  we 


144  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

prevailed  at  last.  My  husband  knows  how  bright  they  came  out  on 
the  side  of  the  Lord.  They  studied  for  the  ministry,  and  went 
missionaries  to  the  Greenwich  Islands.  But  them  heathen  was 
cannibals.  They  took  them  two  young  laborers  in  the  Master's 
vineyard,  and  roasted  'em,  and  devoured  'em.  But  we  all  felt  that 
our  loss  was  their  gain  ;  and  that  we  could  still  say,  blessed  be  the 
name  of  the  Lord. ' 

"Then  there  was  that  tall  Hopkins,  you  know,  wife  ;  he  was  a 
subject  of  prayer  in  your  circle,  and  he's  gone  a  missionary  among 
the  Jews." 

'*  The  Jews  !     The  Jews  !  "  groaned  Patience. 

"I  never  speak  that  name  without  a  cold  shudder  runnin'  over 
me.  Those  crucifiers  of  Christ !  —  and  still  acrucifyin'  him  to  this 
day.  The  Jews  are  worse  than  the  heathen.  The  heathen  never 
saw  Christ,  but  the  Jews  have  seen  Him,  and  his  works  ;  and  yet 
refuse  to  believe  in  their  Savior.     They  need  missionaries  !  " 

"  Well,  Miss  White,  the  Jews  have  been  well  punished  for  their 
hardness  of  heart.  They've  been  scattered  over  ihe  earth  like 
chaff,  before  the  whirlwind  of  God's  wrath." 

"  Yes,  deacon  !  They're  under  a  curse,  like  the  Canaanites,  not 
only  here,  but  hereafter,  for  they  will  till  the  pit  of  despair  for- 
ever ! " 

It  was  time  now  for  Fanny's  flesh  to  creep.  She  had  never  seen 
the  points  of  Cloudspire's  creed  thrown  into  such  glittering  salience. 
Yet,  if  she  had  set  herself  to  be  a  Christian  believer,  she  must  face 
His  resentments.  His  towering  wrath.  His  revenges  on  His  ene- 
mies, His  curses  on  the  beautiful  green  earth,  and  His  fiendish 
tortures  prepared  for  a  never-ending  future,  beyond  the  grave. 
She  asked  Prudence, — 

"  Do  you  think  the  Jews  are  all  cast  off  from  the  presence  of 
God,  forever  ?  " 

"Yes,  child  ;  every  one  of  them  sink  to  the  bottomless  pit,  pre- 
pared for  the  Devil  and  His  angels,  with  the  terrible  sin  of  unbe- 
lief huns  like  a  wei2;ht  about  their  necks  !  " 

"  Mother,  have  you  forgot  Tim  Ford  ?  "  asked  Mary. 

"  No  child  :  I  was  just  comin'  to  him.  Timothy  was  pale  and 
sickly  ;  he  couldn't  earn  a  livin'  on  the  farm.  We  carried  him 
before  the   Throne  of  Grace,  with  the   especial  purpose  that   he 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  1 45 

should  fight  the  beast  with  seven  heads  and  ten  horns.  Our  minis- 
ter says  ihis  means  the  Catholic's  —  and  sure  enough,  he's  now 
preacihn'  to  the  Roman  Catholics  about  worshipin'  their  idols 
made  with  hands,  and  about  their  wearin'  so  manv  beads,  and 
crosses." 

Here  the  face  of  Prudence  grew  fairly  shriveled  with  abhorrence. 
Her  thin  lips  trembled, —  for  the  Roman  Catholics  were  the  bane 
of  her  life.     She  broke  in, — 

"  Miss  Steele,  I'm  glad  to  know  you've  sent  out  a  spiritual  David 
with  a  slins:  in  his  hand  for  the  forehead  ofthat  Anti-Christ.  I  feel 
a  righteous  indignation  at  the  very  name !  I  hope  he  won't  forget 
to  rebuke  them  for  lightin'  up  so  many  wax  candles,  and  for  fillin' 
their  churches  with  that  smoke  they  call  incense.  It  must  be  a 
terrible  stench  in  the  nostrils  of  the  Almighty." 

'•  Tim  Fort  won't  forget  none  of  'em,"  replied  Mrs.  Steele,  con- 
fidently:  "  he  abominates  Catholics." 

"  Eanny,  do  you  like  Catholics  too  ?  "  asked  Mary. 

'■  I  know  nothing  about  them,  but  by  accident.  I  was  lost  once 
when  a  child,  in  the  streets  of  New  York.  No  one  would  listen  to 
my  grief,  but  two  Sisters  of  Mercy.  They  kindly  led  me  back  to 
mv  friends.     I  confess  I  have  ever  since,  thought  it  was  a  Christian 

act." 

"  Did   you    ever   go  to    one    of   their   churches,    and   see   their 

idols  ? " 

'•  Yes.  I  persisted  in  being  taken  there,  after  the  sisters  brought 
me  home.  Everything  was  so  beautiful  to  my  sight.  The  stained 
glass  windows;  the  colored  lights;  the  wonderful  music,  the  lii-:e 
of  which  I  never  heard  before  ;  the  dim  seclusion  ;  the  splendid 
robes  of  the  priests;  the  mysterious  forms  of  worship  at  the  altar; 
the  solemn  chants ;  all  these  drew  me  from  earth  and  its  sinfulness 
into  another  and  holier  sphere  —  like  that  which  Edmund  Stone 
described  in  his  sermon,  yesterday.  It  is  a  pleasant  memory,  and 
yet  I  may  be  wrong  in  all  my  thoughts  about  it." 

"  You  air  wrong !  wickedly  aud  sinfully  wrong  !  "  hastily  ex- 
claimed Miss  White.  "Your  own  feet  ara  standing  on  slippery 
places,  and  — 

"  No.  no,  Miss  White.  We  must  not  be  hard  on  Fanny.  Her 
opinions  are  not  formed  yet.     She  is  looking  for  light.     You  know 


146  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

there  are  no  means  of  grace  down  to  Alderbank.  I've  known  her 
to  walk  three  miles  many  a  summer  Sunday  morning,  over  to  our 
church  ;  and  to  pay  more  'tention  to  the  sermon,  than  half  the  men 
in  the  congrefiation, —  and  then  walk  the  three  miles  back.  The 
Lord  is  leading  her  young  mind  right." 

Mrs.  Steele,  who  had  been  drawn  under  the  surface  in  this  sud- 
den whirlpool  of  debate,  now  came  up  in  the  outer  circle,  to  breathe 
again.  The  rough,  knotty,  smirchy  finger  rose  to  view.  She  re- 
minded all  present  that  there  is  but  one  door  to  enter  the  kingdom. 
(In  her  perspective,  that  one  was  the  faded  green  door  of  Cloud- 
spire  church  .     She  reiterated, — 

''There  is  but  one  door;  and  'he  that  climbeth  up  some  other 
way,  the  same  is  a  thief  and  a  robber ; '  and  Timothy  Fort  will  tell 
them  so." 

"  He'll  do  that,  mother.  He's  a  bold  soldier  of  the  Cross,"  an- 
swered her  husband. 

Before  prayers,  Fanny  entered  the  kitchen  to  thank  Hal  for  his 
remembrance  and  to  speak  a  comforting  word  for  his  loneliness. 
His  dark  face  kindled;  for  there  was  no  mistaking  her  friendship. 
His  heart  warmed  towards  her  religious  faith,  which  included  him, 
Susan,  and  his  children.  When  she  said,  "  God  is  good,  Henry ; 
I  want  you  to  believe  it,"  he  did  believe  he?-  God  to  be  good. 
When  she  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm,  and  said  in  a  low  tone,  "  Wear 
the  clothes  that  Richard  gave  you, — protect  yourself  from  the  cold  ;" 
he  felt  there  was  warmth  and  comfort  forhim  yet. 

Her  return  from  the  kitchen  was  rudely  greeted  by  the  upbraid- 
ing voice  of  Prudence. 

"Why,  my  child,  I've  been  thinkin'  more  and  more  of  your  errors. 
Here  you  are,  takin'  up  for  the  Jews  and  Catholics,  just  as  you  did 
for  the  sons  of  Ham.  You  are  up  in  arms  with  the  Lord,  my  child. 
Where  He  condemns  and  curses,  you  pity  and  excuse.  You 
should  go  to  your  brother  Richard  for  advice.  He  is  learning 
sound  doctrine.     Let  him  guide  you." 

The  deacon  entered,  saying, — 

"  I  think  the  sun'll  come  up  clear  to-morrow  morning.  I  hope 
Fanny ;  for  we  are  all  anxious  to  hear  Richard.  He's  a  lamb  of 
our  flock." 

"  Oh !  yes,"  solemnly  sighed  the  hostess,  looking  towards  Pru- 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  1 47 

dence.     "  If   Richard   follows   in   the  footsteps    of   my  husbrnd's 
brother,  we  shall  feel  repaid  for  our  our  prayers." 


CHAPTER   IX. 

THe  sun  hung  above  the  plumy  western  woods  on  the  ".Main." 
"  Nightingale  Hall,"  on  the  north-west  corner  of  the  island, 
stood  lifted  airily  from  the  ground,  on  its  tall  brick  pillars, —  so 
high  that  its  mistress  used  to  ride  under  the  first  lioor,  sitting  in 
her  saddle,  without  grazing  the  white  plume  of  her  hat.  A  long 
flight  of  broad  stairs,  hedged  by  fragrant  myrtle  and  orange  shrub- 
bery, opened  upon  the  piazza.  This  piazza,  bioad  and  saloon-like, 
surrounding  three  sides  of  the  Hall,  was  shadsd  and  embowered 
by  glossy  green  magnolias,  and  the  broad  fanning  leaves  of  the 
sycamore.  Orange  trees  held  their  golden  fruit  along  the  high 
balustrade,  so  that  the  lounger  had  only  to  reach  the  hand  over,  or 
through  the  railing  for  their  delicious  globes.  Tall  oleanders 
scattered  pinken  and  snowy  blossoms,  side  by  side  with  the  orange, 
along  the  balustrade,  within  easy  reach  of  their  admirers. 

The  view  from  the  western  piazza  was  one  of  characteristic 
Southern  beauty.  Beyond  the  gardens  and  enclosures  of  the  Hall, 
the  eye  rested  first  on  the  low  cabins  of  the  negro  quarters,  stretch- 
ing each  side  of  a  narrow  street,  and  half  hidden  by  low  clumps  of 
the  fig  ;  then  a  strip  of  soft  grassy  marsh,  beyond  which,  still  black 
and  shining  from  the  receding  tide,  sloped  away  a  broad  muddy  beach 
to  the  river. 

Sweeping  around  this  beach,  the  swift  current  of  the  river,  or  rather 
arm  of  the  sea,  hastened  back  to  the  ocean  whence  it  came,  cutting  its 
swift  channel  farther  on  through  untold  acres  of  golden  grass 
grass  marshes,  as  soft  to  the  eye  as  satin  flowers. 

Beyond  the  river,  low  level  lands  roiled  out  into  rice  and  cotton 
fields,  dotted  here  and  there  by  verandahed  plantation  dwellings. 
These  faded  into  distant  pine-lands,  dreamy  with  the  delicious 
purple  haze,  which  only  a  Southern  clime  throws  so  charmingly 
over  all  its  scenes. 

In  the  north-west  chamber  of  this  mansion  overlooking  the  view 


148  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

just  described,  the  windo^vs  were  darkened  by  green  blinds,  neaHy 
closed.  On  a  bed  drawn  into  the  middle  of  the  floor,  lay  the  pale 
form  of  a  dying  woman.  The  lace  pavilion  was  looped  high 
around  the  carved  mahogany  posts,  to  admit  the  rising  evening 
breeze  beneath  its  canopy.  On  one  side  of  the  bed,  a  tall  black 
slave  gently  fanned  the  sufferer  ;  and  on  the  other  reclined  a  fair 
young  girl.  Her  face  rested  in  her  hands  on  the  same  pillow  with 
her  mother  ;  and  she  was  shedding  such  tears  as  only  one  about  to 
become  an  orphan,  can  know. 

"  Raise  me  up,  my  precious  daughter  !  "  faintly  demanded  the 
mother. 

"  Let  me  look  out  upon  nature  once  more,  before  I  go." 

Elsie  slid  her  strong  arm  under  the  pillows,  and  raised  her  so 
that  her  eyes  commanded  the  view  from  the  window,  then  drew 
herself  upon  the  bed,  and  held  the  invalid  tenderly  in  her  arms. 
Hattie,  brushing  the  tear  drops  from  her  sight,  threw  open  the 
blinds.  The  window  was  protected  from  the  slant  rays  of  the  sun 
by  the  deep  sheltering  roof  of  the  piazza.  She  leaned  abstract- 
edly against  the  casement  looking  dreamily  therefrom. 

"Come,  Hattie,  daughter.  I  have  something  more  to  say  to 
you  ;  "  and  as  she  approached  the  bed,  her  thin  fingers  clasped  the 
small  helpless  hand  extended  to  her. 

Hattie's  grief  poured  forth  afresh, —  and  as  if  awaiting  a  calmer 
moment,  the  dying  mothers's  gaze  went  out  through  the  open  win- 
dow, over  the  river,  the  marsh  and  the  purple  woodlands.  The 
blue  eyes  gathered  brightness  for  a  moment,  till  mournful  thoughts 
exhaled  in  a  mist  before  them  and  fell  upon  the  pillow  in  tears. 

"Hattie"  she  said,  "I  have  always  loved  this  island  and  this 
home,  since  I  first  saw  them.  I  have  had  same  sorrows  in  which 
you  could  not  participate.  But  this  dreamy  tropical  phase  of  nature 
has  a  balm  in  it,  which  has  never  failed  to  calm  my  soul.  I  have 
ever  borrowed  a  sweet  and  heavenly  tranquility  from  the  unbroken 
level  of  these  shores  and  the  deep  repose  of  these  forests.  I  leave 
them  to-day.  If  all  be  true  that  the  wise  have  asserted,  I  shall 
soon  walk  by  other  waters, —  by  the  River  of  Life.  I  shall  soon 
look  upon  other  blossoms,  and  gather  the  fruitage  from  the  Tree 
of  everlasting  Life.  Do  not  grieve,  my  darling, —  death  is  the  in- 
evitable lot  of  us  all.     A  few  years,  more  or  less  on  the  earth,  are 


WHITE    MAY,    AND       BLACK    JU2^E.  1 49 

but  a  small  spark  of  eternity.  ^ly  only  regret  is  for  you,  my 
orphaned  child  !  but  I  can  do  no  more  than  lo  bid  you,  when  left 
alone,  to  trust  in  Him  who  is  above  man." 

Throwing  her  arms  about  her  mothei's  neck,  Hattie  p.sked  in 
agonized  shrieks, — 

"Who  will  care  for  me  now?  Where  shall  I  go?  Oh  !  my  dear 
mother,  let  me  go  down  into  the  grave  with  you  !  I  cannot  live  ! 
I  did  not  think  you  would  die  ! " 

She  caught  her  mother's  hand,  crying, — 

"  Stay  !  my  precious  mother !  Stay  !  I  fear  to  meet  this  dread- 
ful world  alone!  Oh  do  not  go  !  " — and  she  rained  imploring 
kisses  and  tears  upon  her  mother's  marble  forehead. 

"Do  my  dear  young  missus  touch  the  bell !  "  spoke  Elsie  in  a 
low  and  rapid  tone.     "  For  the  dear  Jesus'  sake,  be  quick  !  " 

Raising  herself  in  haste  from  the  bed,  with  a  face  ashy  pale,  she 
asked  despairingly, — 

"Oh,  Elsie!  tell   me,  have  I  killed  her?     Is  my  mother  dead?  " 

'■'•  No,  honey  !  pull  the  bell  quick  !  " 

She  reached  the  rope,  and  fell  with  a  heavy  sound  upon  the 
floor.     The  chambermaid  entered. 

"Minnie,"  said  Elsie,  pour  some  wine  as  quick  as  possible,  and 
put  in  a  teaspoonful  of  that  medicine  in  the  bottle.  Give  it  to  me, 
and  then  throw  cool  water  in  Hattie's  face  ! " 

The  blinds  were  drawn  together  j  after  a  time,  mother  and 
daughter  revived. 

"Go  now,"  said  Elsie  to  the  chambermaid, —  "send  little  Friday 
to  stand  by  the  bell- rope,  and  tell   Mauma  Rose  to  come,  when  it 


rmsfs." 

o 


Now  Hattie,"  faintly  whispered  her  mother,  "  calm  yourself. 
Listen  for  the  last  time.  Colonel  Ashland  will  kindly  allow  you  to 
stay  here.  I  have  his  sacred  promise.  I  have  laid  by  one  thousand 
dollars  of  my  earnings  since  I  have  been  governess,  South.  It  is  se- 
curely deposited  in  the  bank  in  Charleston.  Colonel  Ashland  has 
the  papers  —  he  will  acquaint  you  with  the  necessary  details  hereaf- 
ter. It  is  all  yours,  my  clothes  and  jewelry  are  yours  also.  If  you 
should  ever  go  back  to  my  native  State,  visit,  if  possible,  the  scene  of 
my  marriage,  and  the  grave  of  your  father.  Go  to  the  little  church 
where  he  officiated.     Lay  upon  the  green  mound   that  covers  all    I 


150  WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

loved  most  in  the  world,  a  small  chaplet  of  buttercups  and  daises,  the 
wild  flower  wreath  that  his  dear  hands  placed  upon  my  brow,  on 
that  one  happiest  morning  of  my  life  —  mv  bridal  day.  Kneel  by 
his  last  resiing-place  ;  and  looking  over  the  waters  of  Cayuga 
Lake,  join  us  once  more,  by  your  sacred  memories  of  my  lonely 
Southern  grave." 

The  poor  mother  opened  her  arms.  Hattie's  head  fell  upon  that 
loving,  fainting  heart  for  the  last  time.  The  hush  of  death  was 
broken  only  by  the  moans  of  the  young  orphan,  still  enfolded  in 
that  cold  embrace. 

Elsie  motioned  to  Friday.  Answering  the  bell,  Mauma  Rose 
came  softly  in,  and  perceiving  the  true  state  of  affairs,  unlocked 
the  unresisting  arms,  and  lifted  Hattie  from  the  bed. 

Sustaining  and  holding  her  still,  she  endeavored  to  assuage  the 
terrible  tempest  of  her  grief,  that  shook  her  young  life. 

"Hush,  honey!  Don't  cry  darlin',  de  modder  gone  —  gone  to 
blessed  Jesus,  de  moder  sing,  sing  glory  now  ;  lib  wid  de  Lord  ; 
hold  de  palm  leaf,  and  wear  de  white  robe.  She  neber  cry  no 
mo'." 

Drawing  her  towards  the  door,  she  went  on, — 

"  Come  wid  Mauma  Rose,  poor  Birdie !  IMauma  Rose  take 
care."  She  took  Hattie  to  the  nursery,  begged  her  to  lie  down 
and  sat  by,  fanning,  and  hushing  her  woe. 

At  sunset,  when  evening  dropped  suddenly  down,  the  clatter  of 
hoofs  up  the  avenue,  followed  by  the  yelping  of  hounds,  and  the 
discharge  of  guns,  warned  the  household  of  the  approach  of  the 
master  from  the  day's  hunt. 

Colonel  Ashland,  gratified  with  the  day's  success,  sat  a  while 
upon  the  high  piazza  with  his  English  guest;  remarking  upon  the 
two  slain  deer  lying  on  the  greensward  below,  and  engaged  in 
mutual  relations  of  English  and  American  gala  hunts,  till  supper. 

A  repast  of  venison,  ducks,  and  fish  from  the  river  rendered  him 
tolerably  complacent,  so  that  ]Mauma  Rose,  the  only  one  whose 
presence  the  Colonel  tolerated  under  all  circumstances,  was  al- 
lowed to  enter.  She  courtesied,  and  remained  standing  at  the 
door. 

''  Here  comes  my  black  shadow  !  v.'ell,  mauma,  what  now.'' " 

"  Muss  tell  de  masser  bad  news  !  " 


WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK   JUNE.  151 

Long  she  hesitated.  He  arose  from  respect  to  his  friend,  and 
entered  the  hall. 

"  Speak  now  !  '*  said  he. 

"  De  guberness  be  dead,  sir." 

"Another  funeral!  Good  God!  Who'll  die  next?  I  destest 
funerals  ! 

"  De  Lord  bring  de  fun'als,  bressed  masser."  with  another 
courtesy. 

"  Well !  If  the  Lord  brings  the  funerals,  I  wish  he'd  carry  them 
away,  again.  Damnation  !  My  sport  is  ruined  for  to-morrow  ;  "  — 
pausing.  "  No,  I  swear  by  the  Roman  gods  it  shall  not  be  ruined  ! 
I'll  hunt  with  the  Bluffton  Rangers,  if  a  Death's  head  hang  on 
every  tree  !  jMauma  Rose,  send  Monday  to  me.  I  will  give  him 
orders  for  the  grave.  Send  for  the  overseer's  wife  to  stay  through 
the  night.  I  shall  be  in  the  saddle  at  sunrise  ;  you  will  hear  the 
horns  and  the  dogs, —  after  that,  make  arrangements,  funeral  at  nine 
o'clock.  The  parson  and  the  overseer's  wife  will  accompany  Hat- 
tie  in  the  carriage.     Tell  the  coachman.'' 

Mauma  Rose  courtesied  low,  and  said, — 

"  Will  de  bressed  marser  'low  me  and  Elsie  to  foller  in  de  mule- 
cart  ?  " 

•'  Yes.  yes,  you  black  impudence  !  if  you  won't  ask  me  another 
question." 

The  governess,  knowing  that  her  disease  was  fatal,  sent  some 
days  previous  to  Charleston  by  one  of  the  boats  plying  between 
that  city  and  the  island,  for  a  coffin  for  herself,  and  a  mourning  suit 
for  Hattie.  This  had  been  confided  to  Rose  and  Elsie.  The  next 
morning,  old  Parson  Still  officiated  in  the  spacious  hall.  Around 
the  open  coffin  gathered  all  the  house  servants,  and  a  few  field- 
hands  who  had  gained  the  consent  of  the  overseer.  A  wreath  of 
white  roses,  still  wet  with  morning  dews,  lay  upon  the  coffin, —  from 
the  hand  of  Elsie.  White  buds  and  green  leaves-  sprinkled  the 
pure  muslin  shroud,  and  touched  the  light  flaxen  ringlets  of  the 
sleeper.  Honora  Hudson  was  as  lovely  in  her  w^hite  flow'ers,  and 
the  marble  beauty  of  her  last  repose,  as  when  she  stood  at  the  bri- 
dal-altar, crowned  with  buttercups  and  daisies  —  redolent  in  the 
flush  of  her  young  life  and  budding  hopes. 

True   mourners  stood  about  her.     With  calm  faces  and  meekly 


152  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

folded  hands,  ihey  listened  to  the  words  of  Pastor  Still  ;  feeling 
deeply  the  loss  that  took  from  their  chequered  lives,  the  only  joy 
and  comfort  of  the  Hall. 

The  procession,  if  such  it  could  be  called,  moved  over  to  "  St. 
Luke's"  —  a  lonely  little  church  in  the  deep  shades  of  sycamores 
and  live-oaks  by  the  road-side.  It  was  a  pleasant  spot, —  wild 
birds  flitted  through  the  branches,  and  filled  the  air  with  music, — 
light  zephyrs  gave  animation  to  the  trembling  sun-tinted  sprays. 

A  small  cemetery  carefully  enclosed,  was  near  by;  but  the 
governess'  grave  was  dug  outside  the  palings  that  enclosed  the 
blooded  families.  Within  gleamed  costly  marble  monuments,  and 
headstones  among  roses  —  yews  and  palmy  grasses;  but  Honora 
Hudson  slept  sweetly  outside  the  aristocratic  grounds,  under  the 
deep  shadow  of  a  sweet  gum,  in  the  wild- wood.  She  had  long 
since  ceased  to  pay  any  deference  to  such  accidents  of  life,  as 
wealth  or  birth. 

It  was  a  pictuiesque  group,  that  little  band  of  slaves  around  the 
grave  and  its  lonely  young  mourner,  in  the  checkered  light  that 
sifted  like  a  benediction  through  the  tree  tops.  The  parson  lined  a 
hymn  ;  their  voices  rose  solemnly  on  the  air,  like  sacred  incense 
beneath  green  arches.  There  was  a  hidden  resignation  in  the 
clear  full  tones,  which  had  been  garnered  from  the  hopelessness  of 
their  own  lives. 

Hattie  turned  to  Mauma  Rose,  who  stood  close  by  her,  and 
whose  dear  old  face  watched  every  changing  look  of  "her  chil's,"  as 
she  called  her.  She  clasped  her  arms  about  mauma's  neck,  with 
one  long  moan  of  anguish.  Mauma  held  her  to  her  heart,  and 
hushed  her  as  she  would  hush  an  infant, —  then  half  carried  her  to 
the  carriage  door. 

Arrived  at  the  Hall,  the  servants  quickly  removed  every  vestige 
of  death's  doings;  opened  windows  and  doors  —  filled  vases  v/ith 
flowers  in  the  dining-room,  halls,  and  sleeping-chambers  ;  till  within 
and  without,  the  very  atmosphere  was  burdened  with  fragrance. 
The  cooks  in  the  kitchens  kindled  their  fires  afresh,  and  busily  pre- 
pared for  the  evening's  entertainment.  The  trusty  butler  gave 
orders,  and  a  house-full  of  servants  obeyed. 

Silver  candelabra  for  the  tables  and  walls  received  the  final 
touches,  and  held  tall  wax  candles  in  their  polished  arms.     Treas- 


WillTE    MAY,    AI^D    BLACK    JUNE.  153 

ures  of  family  plates  were  unlocked,  and  disposed  in   showy  mag- 
nificence on  the  dining-room  tables. 

Picture  frames  with  faces  to  the  walls  were  tnrned  about,  pre- 
senting views  of  the  chase  in  English  parks,  and  Scotch  highlands, 
and  over  each  were  hung  the  huge  branching  antlers  of  American 
stags  ;  some  of  them  tipped  with  silver,  and  inlaid  with  a  silver 
dafe  of  the  day  and  year  of  its  capture. 

The  row  of  stables  was  drenched  with  water  and  thrown  open  to 
the  sun.  The  gardener  trimmed  truant  sprays,  and  swept  avenues 
and  walks.  Towards  sunset,  Virgil,  a  prime  jet  black  boy,  was 
sent  to  the  outer  gate  of  the  grounds,  with  orders  to  "  trow  open  de 
bi<^  gate  wide  ;  quick  vou  hear  de  marser  horn  !  Min'  now  !  Lis- 
ten boy  !  Cowhide  comin' !  "  Virgil  went  to  his  watch,  amusing 
himself  meanwhile  in  jumping  across  the  sandy  road,  Vv-hisUing  like 
a  grosbeak,  turning  somersault,  walking  on  his  two  hands  and  bel- 
lowing like  an  alligator.  .    ,. 

Just  as  the  sun  dropped  behind  the  v/estern  woods,  a  winding 
horn  brou^h  him  to  his  feet.  The  broad  heavy  gates  were  swung 
backwards!  Colonel  Ashland,  with  a  galloping  troop  of  uproarious 
hunters,  rushed  through,  followed  at  a  little  distance  by  another 
body  of  mounted  slaves,   bringing  in  the  game,  guns   and  hired 

hounds.  .,,  ,  ,  ,  •     1  ^ 

As  he  arrived  first,  he  blew  a  long  shrill  blast  on  his  horn,  to 
hasten  the  movement  of  the  rear.  On  they  came  ;  the  black  troop 
dashing  after  the  heels  of  the  first  Horses,  negroes,  panting  dogs, 
champing  bits,  the  rattling  of  buckles,  guns  and  trappings,— the 
lordlv  commands  of  the  several  rangers  to  their  footmen  and  the 
quick  sharp  reply  of  black  menials,  altogether  made  an  enlivening 

scene 

Beds  had  been  prepared  for  the  ''  Rangers  ; "  they  were  to  re- 
ceive the  hospitalities  of  "  Nightingale  Hall."  The  six  body-ser- 
vants of  the  guests,  mingling  with  the  numerous  house-servants, 
and  all  running  to  and  fro  at  the  master's  orders,  imparted  a  hum 
to  hall,  dressing-room  and  chamber.  After  the  refreshing  duties 
of   the    toilet,    the  party   resorted   to    the    inviting    moon-lighted 

piazza.  , 

Roastino-  viands  in  the  kitchen  evolved  a  savory  odor.  iNou^,  tlie 
various  "  boys,"  as  they  were  termed,  although  they  might  be  gray 


154  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE, 

with  years,  stood  like  statues  near  their  masters  ;  or  gHcled  up  and 
down  the  long  piazza  stairs,  like  shadows.  Brandies  and  wines 
were  handed  about  on  silver  waiters,  and  drunk  from  silver  goblets. 
Each  hunter  sat  enveloped  in  the  aroma  of  a  cigar  ;  and,  as  is  usual 
at  such  gatherings,  the  lide  of  discussion  ran  high  on  various  sub- 
jects vital  to  South  Carc^ina's  domestic,  and  foreign  interests. 

"Major  Pendleton,  ho'#  are  3''0ur  negroes  progressing  in  the  'di- 
vine life  '  under  the  new  missionary  7'cguneV 

"  Well,  Major,  I  am  not  iftformed  on  that  point,  as  religion  is 
quite  out  of  my  line.  However,  I  have  built  them  a  little  church, 
and  pay  a  Northern  preacher  a  small  salary  per  year.  According 
to  all  advices,  his  instructions  will  relieve  the  overseer  of  some  of 
his  bloodiest  labors." 

"  Is  this  Northern  preacher  sound  on  the  Bible  doctrine  of  sla- 
very ?  " 

"  All  right,  I  can  assure  you,  sir, —  and  if  he  labors  as  assidu- 
ously to  show  my  niggers  that  they  were  designed  for  bondage,  by 
the  Creator,  as  he  has  labored  to  demonstrate  the  same  to  me,  I 
need  fear  no  insurrection  at  present." 

"When,  and  in  what  manner,  originated  this  idea  of  furnishing 
religious  teaching  for  our  slaves  ?  "  asked  Captain  Mardyke. 

"  In  the  year  1831  —  I  think,"  replied  Major  Pendleton,  the  Rev. 
Charles  C.  Jones  preached  a  sermon  on  the  spiritual  destitution  of 
our  slaves,  before  two  associations  of  planters  in  Georgia.  He 
termed  them  'A  nation  of  heathen  in  our  midst.*  Of  course,  this 
stirred  the  public  mind  ;  and  the  matter  was  referred  to  a  commit- 
tee of  the  Synod  of  South  Carolina  and  Georgia ;  they  reported 
upon  the  religious  instruction  of  our  colored  population.  In  sub- 
stance they  report,  that  from  the  Potomac  to  the  Sabine  river,  from 
the  Atlantic  to  the  Ohio,  there  are  not  twelve  men  exclusively  de- 
voted to  the  instruction  of  the  negroes.  They  know  of  but  five 
churches  in  the  slave-holding  states,  built  expressly  for  their  use. 
They  tell  us  that  "in  these  years  of  revival,  and  benevolent  effort 
in  this  Christian  Republic,  there  are  two  millions  of  human  beings 
in  the  condition  of  Heathen ;  and  in  some  respects,  in  a  worse  con- 
dition! " 

"W^hen  was  that  report  made,  sir?  "  asked  Prof.  La  Bruce. 

"In  Dec.  5,  1833,  it  produced  quite  a  sensation  in   many  states. 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  155 

It  was  considered  at  first,  you  remember,  gentlemen,  as  inflamma- 
ory  sentiment,  and  a  dangerous  expermient." 

"  Yes  !  I  remember,"  said  Colonel  Ashland.  We  have  proved 
that  giving  information  of  any  kind  to  slaves  is  like  applying  a 
match  to  gunpowder,  in  regard  to  our  safety.  The  more  we  shape 
them  to  the  grand  ideas  of  our  Institution  which  are  labor,  and  a 
prolific  increase,  the  more  secure  and  remunerative  is  our  owner- 
ship. But  after  much  agitation  and  conference  of  leading  South- 
ern minds,  it  has  been  thought  that  churches  for  our  slaves  would 
make  better  workers,  and  prove  safeguards  for  ourselves." 

''  That  is  the  true  interpretation  of  the  subject,  Colonel,"  an- 
swered j\Iajor  Pendleton.  "  We  concluded  that  every  church  would 
stand  for  an  arsenal,  in  our  midst." 

'*  We  have  fostered,  and  developed  one  quality  in  the  African 
which  will  turn  to  our  advantage  in  this  new  religious  movement, 
—  and  that  is,  reverence  for  their  superiors;"  said  Captain  Mar- 
dyke.  "  They  well  know  that  God  is  the  superior  of  all  ;  —  but  as 
they  cannot  read  for  themselves,  and  consequently,  can  form  no 
independent  judgments,  they  will  rely  upon  their  white  teachers,  to 
unfold  and  construe  the  dealings  of  God  with  men.  If  this  be  done 
in  a  skillful,  and  proper  manner,  it  will  prove  of  untold  advantage 
to  our  cotton  and  rice  crops ;  as  well  as  to  the  stability  of  our  sys- 
tem." 

"  Certainly !  "  replied  the  rich,  musical  voice  of  Fred  Warham  ; 
"  and  with  th^  proper  teaching  from  the  pulpit,  that  God  ordained 
slavery^  —  with  a  hell  to  intimidate,  and  a  heaven  to  attract,  it  would 
be  comparatively  a  much  easier  matter  to  hold  our  slaves  in  sub- 
jection ! " 

Fred  Warham,  a  young  sportsman  of  the  first  wa:er,  was  the 
"one  thing  needful"  in  all  the  social  gatherings  of  that  section. 
In  the  clan  hunts  of  the  planters  and  gentlemen  of  leisure,  his 
horse  cleared  every  obstacle  with  a  bound — from  a  fallen  tree,  or 
boundary  fence,  to  a  boggy  ditch.  At  the  races,  his  quick  glance 
skirting  the  flying  track,  was  the  guide  to  grey-headed  umpires. 
On  all  political  subjects,  his  sagacity,  and  high  toned  enthusiasm 
in  regard  to  the  sacred  Institution  of  his  beloved  State,  won  him 
admiring  auditors. 

His  inquiring  mind  led  him  to  search  out  the  character,  and  at- 


156  WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

tributes  of  God,  after  the  most  approved  theories  of  Theoloc^y  in  a 
Northern  Seminary  ;  and  he  had  received  a  diploma  for  his  laiowl- 
edge  of  the  same.  He  was  called  the  "Rev.  Fred,"  — and  when 
in  Charleston,  or  other  sister  cities,  of  a  Sabbath,  he  ascended 
elegantly  into  the  pulpit,  with  the  air  of  one  who  had  sounded  the 
depths  of  divine  mystery;  and  turning  the  full  blaze  of  his  resplen- 
dent oratorical  'powers  upon  clouded  doctrinal  points,  illummated 
the  whole  theory  of  the  Christian  religion.  His  versatile  genius 
made  him  reliable  reference.  Hence,  on  this  occasion,  there^'arose 
around  him  a  pleasant  volley  of  applause  at  the  expression  of  his 
quick  perceptions. 

''  Right  sir  !     Right  sir  !     Right  sir !  "  echoed  on  every  hand. 

**I  believe  the  Northern  churches  are  generally  sound  in  the 
support  of  our  institution  and  in  the  rights  of  the  slave-holder;" 
remarked  Squire  Meddleton. 

"  Assuredly  sir  I  "  replied  Rev.  Fred.  •'  The  churches  stand  like  a 
wall  in  defence  of  slavery.  Their  ecclesiastical  robes  are  unstained 
by  heresy  in  that  direction  !  Their  unyielding  patriotism  is  squarely 
based  upon  the  Constitution  !  Why  gentlemen  !  the  spire  of  every 
Northern  church,  pointing  with  prophetic  finger  to  the  God  whose 
word  is  our  highest  earthly  authority,  is  equal  to  a  regiment  of  bay- 
onets !  We  should  be  weak  indeed,  without  the  church  and  the 
coexisting  protection  of  the  National  military  arm  !  We  own  the 
slaves  —  they  hold  them!  Really,  we  put  on  the  manacles  —  the 
North  rivets  them.  We  give  the  word  of  command  —  they  pull  the 
trigger  ! " 

"With  their  Bibles  and  bullets  we  have  nothing  to  fear  !  "  added 
Major  Pendleton.  "  Emphatically  so  !  sir  ;  and  1  desire  to  read  you 
a  slip  which  I  cut  from  the  '  Marysville,  Tenn.,  Intelligencer  ''  " 

"We  are  your  most  interested  listeners  !  "'  exclaimed  the  party. 
"Tom,  bring  a  light ;  these  magnolias  are  impervious  to  the  rays 
of  the  moon. " 

Major  Pendleton  reqd, — 

"We  of  the  South  are  emphatically  surrounded  by  a  dangerous 
class  of  beings  —  degraded,  stupid  savages,  —  who  if  they  could 
but  once  entertain  the  idea  that  immediate,  and  unconditional  death 
would  not  be  their  portion,  would  re-act  the  St.  Domingo  tragedy. 
But  the  consciousness,  with  all  their  stupidity,  that  a  ten-fold  force, 


WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  157 

superior  in  discipline,  if  not  in  barbarit}'',  would  gather  from  the 
four  corners  of  the  United  States,  and  slaughter  them,  keeps  them 
in  subjection.  But  to  the  non-slave-holding  States  particularly, 
are  we  indebted,  for  a  permanent  safe-guard  against  insurrection. 
Without  their  assistance,  the  white  population  of  the  South  would 
be  too  weak  to  quiet  that  innate  desire  for  liberty,  which  is  ever 
ready  to  act  itself  out,  wiih  every  rational  creature." 

"A  truthful  view!"  echoed  several  voices,  ''The  Northern  clergy 
are  our  watch  dogs  !  We  must  place  brass  collars  upon  their  faith- 
ful necks;  engraved  with  the  motto,  ''No discussion T  Without  dis- 
cussion, peace  will  prevail.  Thus  the  clear  rays  of  gospel  light  will 
neither  be  broken,  nor  retarded." 

"Buc,"  said  Colonel  Ashland,  "what  of  this  Synod  of  South  Car- 
olina and  Georgia?  Why  has  it  recently  become  so  solicitous  in 
its  pious  care  of  the  slave  ?  It  laments  over  two  millions  of  human 
beings  in  the  condiion  of  heathen  and  in  some  respects  in  a  worse 
condition.  Our  niggers  are  not  human  beings!  There  must  be 
some  wolves  there,  in  sheep's  clothing." 

"I  assure  you  not,  sir  !  They  resolved  unanimously,  that,  'In 
the  opinion  of  this  Synod,  Abolition  Societies,  and  the  principles 
on  which  they  are  founded  in  the  United  States,  are  inconsistent 
with  the  interests  of  the  slaves,  the  right  of  the  holders,  and  the 
great  principles  of  our  political  institucions,  ," 

"That  is  the  right  basis  for  operations,  "  said  Colonel  Ashland  ; 
"  but  we  may  import  firebrands  into  our  midst,  in  the  persons  of 
these  preachers ;  for  you  see  they  must  be  white  men.  We  have 
no  black  preachers, —  and  if  we  had,  they  would  not  be  tolerated. 
These  shepherds  must  be  white  —  and  they  must  come  from  the 
North.  We  Southerners  have  other  and  better  business  than 
teaching  the  word  of  the  Lord.  Our  own  word  is  sufBcient  for 
us." 

"  There  is  not  the  least  harm  to  be  apprehended  from  this 
source,  "  remarked  Fred  Warham.  "  The  North  turns  out  scores 
of  ministers  at  her  doctrinal  schools.  Their  theology  is  shaped  ac- 
cording to  our  National  Constitution,  and  the  Cons:itution  was 
moulded  by  our  own  hands.  Prof.  Stuart  of  Andover,  the  lead- 
ing theological  mind  of  that  section  leaves  the  right  stamp  upon 
his  students.     He  pronounces  slavery  right ;  and  entitled  to  protec- 


»5S  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

tion  from  all  American  citizens.     I  was  educated  there  myself ;  and 
well  remember  his  sturdy  blows  at  the  increasing  fanaticism   about 
him.     I  have  been  thinking  quite  seriously  of  getting  one   of   these 
preachers    inyself.     I   have  written  to  one  of  my   classmates.     He 
went  to  Virginia  after  graduation,  and  has  some  experience  in  deal- 
ing with   slaves ;  which  I  consider  a    valuable    acquisition.     You 
know  there   are   four  hundred  belonging  to  my   estate  ;    and   they 
raise  the  devil,  generally.     They  shirk  their  tasks,  steal,  bear  false 
witness,    and  get  their  backs  cut  up  handsomely.     But   I   must  try 
some  other  remedy.     If  there  is  anything  in  the  United   States   to 
tame   them,  it  devolves  upon  me  to  lind  it.     Speaking  of  this  new 
shepherd  for  my  flock  ;  I  beg  you  gentlemen  to  listen  to  an  extract 
from  his  reply  to  me." 

He  took  a  letter  from  his  pocket  and  read, — 

''  Slavery  is  not  only  countenanced,  permitted  and  regulated  by 
the  Bible  ;  but  it  was  positively  instituted  by  God  himself.  He  has 
in  so  many  words  enjoined  it  !  " 

The  ringing  of  the  supper-bell  interrupted  conversation,  and  the 
party  entered  the  dining-room.  The  pictures  and  flowers,  the  sil- 
ver and  glass,  presented  a  brilliant  array.  By  the  light  of  the  Bri- 
arian  candelabras,  the  feasters  were  helped  by  their  servants  to 
venison,  turkey,  duck,  and  other  wild  game.  The  tables  were  bur- 
dened with  the  richest  dessert  Charleston  afforded.  The  baskets 
containing  it  had  been  "  toted  "  to  the  Hall. from  the  schooner  but 
a  short  time  in  advance  of  the  arrival  of  the  master.  They  ate, 
drank,  toasted  and  cheered  till  past  midnight. 

"  Old  Holyrood  rang  merrih', 
That  night  with  wassail,  mirth  and  glee, 
King  James  wiihin  his  princely  bower, 
Toasted  the  chiefs  of  Scotland's  power, 
Summoned  to  spend  the  parting  hour." 

At  length  wine,  the  potent  ruler  of  man's  godlike  intellect,  took 
the  throne.     Wine  installed  itself  master  of  ceremonies. 

"  The  fiery  flood, 
\Vhose  purple  blood 
Has  a  dash  of  Spanish  bravado." 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  1 59 

Still  they  held  the  cup, — 

"  And  bade  the  goblet  pass. 
In  their  beards  the  red  wine  glistened, 
Like  dew-drops  in  the  grass." 

"They  drank  to  the  soul  of  Witlaf; 
They  drank  to  Christ  the  Lord  ; 
And  to  each  of  the  twelve  Apostles 
Who  had  preached  Llis  Holy  Word." 

The  toasts  were  numerous  and  characteristic  ;  a  few  of  which  are 
given. 

The  first  gentleman  offered, — 

'•The  words  of  our  illustrious  General  Hayne.  *Next  to  the 
Christian  Religion,  I  consider  Free  Trade  in  its  largest  sense,  as 
the  greatest  blessing  that  can  be  conferred  on  any  people.'  " 

Another  proposed  "Nullificaiion  and  one  of  its  Ordinances." 
(  Cries  of  Hear  !  Hear  !  Hear  !  )  "  The  people  of  this  State  will 
hold  themselves  absolved  from  all  further  obligation  to  maintain  or 
preserve  their  political  connection  with  the  people  of  the  other 
States  ;  and  will  forthwith  proceed  to  organize  a  separate  govern- 
ment ;  and  do  all  other  acts  and  things,  which  Sovereign  and  In- 
dependent States  may  of  right  do.  " 

The  old  slogan,  "  Disunion  !  "  "  Secession  !  "  "  Sovereign  State  !  " 
was  the  hearty  response.  In  enthusiastic  anticipation,  goblets 
went  crashing  through  the  window  panes, —  a  miniature  tocsin  of 
shivering  glass. 

Mr.  Fred  Warham's  figure  was  a  fine  type  of  manly  perfection. 

"  His  form  was  middle  size. 
For  feat  of  strength,  or  exercise  ; 
Shaped  in  proportion  fair  ; 
•  And  hazel  was  his  easjle  eve. 
And  auburn  of  the  darkest  dye, 

His  short  curled  beard  and  hair. 

Light  was  his  footstep  in  the  dance 

And  firm  his  stirrup  in  the  lists  ; 

And  oh  !  he  had  that  merry  glance, 

That  seldom  lady's  heart  resists." 

Wine,  the  magician  had  a  stronger  mental,  and  physical  fibre  to 
bend  in  Fred,  than  in  some  of  his  compnnions.  The  purple 
draught  seemed  only  to  have  flashed  sunshine  mto  his  brain. 


l6o  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

He  was  promenading  in  the  long,  broad  hall  with  Minnie,  the 
chamber-maid.  Together  they  swung  in  and  out  cf  the  moonlight, 
like  fairies;  till  her  cheek  grew  tulip  red,  beneath  its  film  of 
brown. 

The  watchword,  "Nullification",  arrested  his  light  feet,  as 
quickly  as  a  shot  fired  across  the  bow  arrests  a  cruiser.  He  en- 
tered the  dining-room.  He  drank  to  "  Nullification,"  and  ofi'ered 
an  additional  sentiment. 

"The  sacred  soil  of  Carolina!  Woe  be  to  its  invaders!  In  the 
words  of  our  distinguished  defender  :  '  I  recognize  no  allegiance 
as  paramount  to  that,  which  the  citizens  of  South  Carolina  owe  to 
the  State  of  their  birth,  or  their  adoption  ! '" 

Bacchanalian  applause  interrupted.  But  a  gallant  wave  of  Fred's 
fair,  bejeweled  hand  restrained  the  clamorous  guests  ;  and  he  pro- 
ceeded in  slow,  impressive  tones,-— 

"  South  Carolina  cannot  be  drawn  down  from  the  proud  emi- 
nence on  which  she  has  now  placed  herself;  except  by  the  hands 
of  her  own  children !  Give  her  a  fair  field,  and  she  asks  no 
more  ! "  ' 

Although  wine  and  brandy  had  stupefied  nerve  and  brain,  this 
last  monstrosity  —  Rev.  Fred's  supposition  that  South  Carolina 
would  be  destroyed  by  her  own  children  ;  that  South  Carolina,  re- 
gal, haught}',  self-poised,  should  die  the  death  of  a  suicide  ;  thereby 
excluding  herself  from  the  Mausoleum  of  an  honorable  fame;  — 
that  she  should  lie  in  a  grave  of  disgrace  ;  —  these  bitter  thoughts 
roused  the  slumbering  ire  of  their  souls !  The  Spartan  motto, 
"With  our  shields,  or  on  our  shields!"  was  the  universal  re- 
sponse. 

Colonel  Ashland  conformed  to  ihe  usual  custom,  on  festive  occa- 
sions;  and  proposed  the  closing  sentiment. 

"The  fair  Daughters  of  South  Carolina!  distinguished  for  their 
purity,  beauty,  and  grace  !  "  Glowing  memories  were  awakened  ; 
and  sacred  names  of  mother,  sister,  sweet  heart,  were  reveren- 
tially pronounced ;  till  the  air  seemed  hushed,  and  purified  by  the 
spell. 

None  slept  in  Nightingale  Hall,  except  the  children  of  Colonel 
Ashland.     Their  sleep  was  a  deep  oblivion  which  nothing  disturbs. 

In  that  room,  Hattie  sat  on  a  low  seat, —  her  head  resting  on 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  l6l 

Mauma  Rose's  lap.  Her  eyes  were  wear}^  and  sorrowful.  This 
was  the  first  high  wassail  she  had  experienced.  The  confusion 
and  uproar  caused  a  throb  of  fear.  Alauma  smoothed  her  hair 
with  a  slow,  mesmeric  hand  —  at  the  same  time  expressing  her 
own  bitter  thoughts.  These  thoughts  were  not  the  hasty  efferves- 
sence  of  an  excited  moment; — they  had  slowly  crystalized  around 
her  heart  during  a  life-time. 

"  Neber  mine,  chile  !  I'se  heerd 'em  hoopin'  an'  hollerin'  eber 
cence  I  hear  nottin'  —  de  debbils  !  —  drink!  drink!  drink!  Dat 
all  dey  good  for  I  ain't  half  so  'spectable  as  de  hosses  in  de  stab'e  ! 
Neber  mine,  'em,  young  missis  !  De  Lord  git  arter  'em  bime  by  ! 
Jcs  sich  noise  in  tousan'  oder  house  in  de  Souf.  Dey  gwine  to  bed 
now,  missis.     Hear  ?  " 

A  final  peace  was  concluded.  Each  footman  spread  a  blanket 
on  the  floor,  and  threw  himself  down  by  the  master's  couch  ;  se- 
cretly thankful  the  day  was  over.  The  remnant  of  the  night  was 
left  to  the  lonely  hooting  of  a  winking  owl,  in  the  magnolias. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  last  day  of  revival  week  v;as  dawning.  When  the  bright 
yellow  sun  peered  over  the  snowy  brink  of  Cloudspire,  he 
found  himself  belated  in  the  morning  business.  It  was  plain  that 
his  majesty  was  not  a  revivalist ;  and  that  his  royal  heart  was  not 
in  the  holy  work  then  being  carried  to  its  completion.  It  was 
glaringly  evident,  that  he  was  not  a  believer,  from  the  broad  self- 
sufficient  smile  with  which  he  saluted  every  farmhouse  ;  and 
quenched  the  puny  flames  of  its  tallow  candles  ;  the  candles  on 
the  smoking  breakfast  tables  ;  the  candles  in  the  hands  of  plump 
dairy  women,  skimming  rich  cream  in  amber  folds  from  waiting 
pans  ;  the  candles  on  side  tables  ;  where  rosy  maidens  stood  pack- 
ing into  lunch  baskets,  carvings  of  roast  meats ;  slices  of  bread 
and  golden  butter ;  wedges  of  cake  ;  pans  of  tawny  doughnuts  ; 
and  blocks  of  cheese. 

In  a  hardened,  unreflective  way,  he  thrust   his  long  tardy  rays 
into  the  faces  of   the  exclusive  whale  oil  lamps,  watching  on  the 


1 62  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

parlor  mantles  ;  and  jestingly  laid  brighter  lights  on  the  gray, 
chestnut,  and  auburn  heads  of  early  risen  guests.  He  pushed  his 
way  through  half  open  barn  doors ;  and  laid  golden  bars  on  the 
littered  floors. 

He  found  Henry  Hughes, —  extinguished  his  lantern  ;  and  bade 
him  walk  on  patches  of  the  "New  Jerusalem  come  down"  into 
frozen  barns !  He  gilded  the  snow-shoveled  paths  to  the  stable ; 
and  bade  Hal's  ragged  feet  "  walk  the  golden  streets  "  —  the  sac- 
rilegious, jocular  old  sinner  !  that  sun  ! 

When  the  paths  were  continued  about  the  house,  to  the  buried 
road,  Hal  wrought  with  a  golden  shovel ;  and  threw  up  to  the 
light,  long  massive  heaps  of  the  yellow  ore. 

Thus  he  went  on; — this  god  of  da}^  thrusting  his  curious,  im- 
pudent glances  into  bed-rooms,  large  and  bleak,  small  and  cosy, — 
'•  up  stairs,  down  stairs,  and  in  my  lady's  chamber ; "  but  found  no 
one  napping. 

Mary  and  Fanny  patted  and  rounded  two  plump  pillows,  as  the 
last  touch  of  neatness  to  their  bed.  Fanny  exclaimed,  "  There 
comes  the  sun  !  the  magnificent  sun  !  He  shames  the  candle  with 
his  glory  !  Let  us  roll  up  the  curtains.  Oh  !  ]Mary  !  do  come  and 
look  out!  how  beautiful  1  The  shadows  of  your  maple  trees  look 
as  if  they  were  penciled  on  white  velvet.  See  !  how  delicately 
every  twig  is  drawn  !  " 

"It  is  pretty,"  replied  Marv ;  "but  I  never  noticed  them  be- 
fore." 

"  And  Mary !  observe  the  windows  of  your  neighbors'  liouses, 
over  the  hill !  The  panes  are  of  molten  gold !  How  they  flash  ! — 
and  the  pines  are  wearing  fresh  white  robes,  and  mantles  of  down  ! 
And  look  Mary,  at  the  sofi  purple  veil  which  the  distant  range  of 
Green  Mountains  wears!  Oh!  it  all  fills  my  soul  with  unspeakable 
pleasure !  I  can  neither  express,  nor  explain  the  emotions  with 
which  Nature  overwhelms  me!  There's  a  divine  glory  about  them, 
and  an  overshadowing  presence  of  the  wisdom,  and  goodness  of 
their  Creator,  that  is  bewildering!  " 

"  I  cannot  feel  as  you  do,  "  replied  Mary,  regretfully.  "  Why 
are  we  so  different  from  each  other?  Tliis  morning's  sun  illumines 
your  spirit !  I  wish,  Fanny,  you  could  see  your  own  eyes  !  They 
sparkle  like  the  golden  windows  over  the  hill  !     Snow  is  simply 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.'  1 63 

white,  and  cold,  to  me.  Summer  is  haying-time, —  and  dniry  toil! 
The  sun  seems  made  to  call  me  from  sweet  sleep,  and  its  setting 
leaves  me  tired  with  day.  I  have  no  poetry  in  my  nature,  I  sup- 
pose,—  at  least,  Uncle  William  tells  me  so.  " 

"Neither  have  I  poetry  in  my  nature,  Mary  ;  "  throwing  one  arm 
lovingly,  around  her  friend's  neck.  "  There's  no  merit  in  me  for 
it,  ]\Iary.  I  really  love  these  snows,  these  shadows,  and  blue 
mountains.  They  speak  tome!  —  they  calm  and  satisfy  me.  I 
cannot  help  being  happy  in  their  presence.  Ah  !  there  come  the 
slow,  patient  oxenout  of  their  stables  !  Their  breath  freezes  on 
the  sharp  winter  air.  The  brass  buttons  on  their  horns  glitter  in 
the  sun  ;  bless  them  !  the  great  gentle  things  !  There  come  Czar 
and  Sultan  to  stir  their  blood  !  — there  they  go  !  rearing,  and  pranc- 
ing! How  grand  and  graceful  they  are!  Do  you  know,  Mary,  I 
am  wicked  enough  to  covet  those  beautiful  creatures  ? " 

"Fanny,  I  imagine  you  and  Lucy  Clarendon  are  very  much  alike. 
She  always  looks  content,  and  absorbed  with  something  beyond 
ordinary  vision ;  as  if  she  were  holding  converse  with  invisible 
voices ;  and  cai'ed  nothing  for  us  prosy,  matter-of-fact  farmer  girls, 
as  Uncle  WiUiam  calls  us.  I  beHeve  I  should  love  her ;  and  Lucy 
might  have  some  affection  for  me,  if  I  could  make  her  acquaint- 
ance,—  for  you  love  me,  Fanny ;  although  I  cannot  see  why.  " 

"  Girls  !  why  are  you  standin'  idle  at  the  windows  !  Breakfast  is 
waitin' !  "  spoke  a  chilling,  censorious  voice,  at  the  open  door. 
"  Fanny,  I  hoped  to  have  found  you  on  your  knees,  askin'  a  bles- 
sin'  on  your  brother  Richard's  efforts  to-day.  Although  he  is  not 
ordained  yet,  he  can  bear  his  testimony  for  the  Lord.  Cloudspire 
has  reason  to  be  spiritually  proud  of  its  young  theologian  j  —  this 
town  may  truly  be  called  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord." 

Prudence,  for  it  was  none  other,  motioned  to  her  awe-struck 
companion:  "Mary,  go  down  to  your  mother,  and  leave  Fanny 
with  me.     I  desire  to  see  her  alone. 

"  Sit  down  Fanny,  and  let  me  give  you  some  advice.  I  came  in 
still,  lest  I  should  disturb  your  wrestlin'  wnth  the  Holy  Spirit;  and 
heard  you  admiring  the  hills,  the  dumb  cattle,  and  the  sun.  Now 
Fanny,  all  these  things  are  vanities.  To  w^orship  them  is  to  be 
like  the  heathen,  who  bow  down  to  storks  and  stones.  They  are 
not  made  in  the  image  of   God,  and  have  no  souls.     You  should 


l64  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

meditate 'on  the  dark  solemnit}^  of  lost  spirits, —  you  should  keep 
that  view  before  your  mind, —  if,  haply,  you  might  be  the  means  of 
pluckin'  one,  as  a  brand  from  the  burnin'.  The  true  believer  has 
no  time  for  gayety  or  rejoicin',  in  this  vale  of  tears.  I  feel  as  if  it 
was  given  to  me  to  admonish  the  young,  and  to  set  their  feet  in 
the  narrow  path  to  eternal  life.  As  I  shaJl  not  see  you  after  this 
mornin',  remember  Vvhat  I  have  said  respectin'  the  curse  of  Ca- 
naan. Touch  not  the  accursed  thing.  I  want  to  welcome  you 
around  the  great  white  throne;  but  Fanny,  remember,  if  you  inter- 
fere and  intercept  the  designs  of  Providence  towards  the  lower 
races  of  men,  if  you  g've  your  love  to  the  sun,  stars,  to  trees  and 
mountains  and  rivers;  if  you  don't  maintain  a  righteous  hatred  to 
the  Jews  ;  and  if  you  don't  turn  scornfully  away  from  Roman 
Catholic  Cathedrals,  an  angry  God  will  cast  you  from  his  presence 
forever  !  Aly  duty  is  done !  Pray  that  you  may  be  saved  from 
these  destroyin'  temptations." 

Half-past  ten  approached.  The  church  bell  sent  forth  its  clang- 
ing voice  on  the  clear,  cold  air;  drowning  the  strings  of  smaller 
bells  which  rose  and  fell  over  the  hills,  and  slid  into  the  valleys, 
which  came  from  the  North,  the  South,  the  East,  and  the  West ; 
which  wound  along  the  frozen  brooks,  or  echoed  past  the  leafless 
forests.  Nearer  and  nearer  they  came  ;  till  jingle  and  clang,  and 
clang  and  jingle  proclaimed  with  riotous  tongues,  the  gathering  of 
the  elect. 

A  glow  of  satisfaction  beamed  on  most  of  the  faces,  successively 
alighting  at  the  green  church  door.  A  bigoted  devotee  would  have 
recognized  this  glow,  as  the  new  peace  wiUi  God.  A  cooler  scru- 
tiny into  hearts  would  have  found  its  well-spring  of  gladness  to  be 
the  near  close  of  dreary  revival  week  ;  that  the  avenging  God  was 
about  to  veil  His  dreaded  face  ;  that  the  wild  sea  of  human  de- 
pravity would  cease  to  be  dragged  to  its  turbid  depths,  for  dead 
and  hidden  sins  ;  that  the  sulphurous  fumes  of  an  uncovered  Plell 
were  about  to  sink  into  a  burned-out  crater  ;  thus  ceasing  to  out- 
rage every  earthly  aspiration  ;  tbnt  at  last  they  might  go  to  quiet 
homes,  yet  left  standing,  amid  the  crash  of  worlds  ;  and  tread  the 
usunl  paths  of  a  terrestrial  existence. 

The  only  blot  upon  the  morning  landscape,  and  the  only  shadow 
upon  the  universal  content,  was  Dr.  Clarendon's  house  just  across  the 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  1 65 

whitened  common.  Glowering  and  bereaved  glances  assailed  its 
calm  front,  and  red-curtained  windows.  There  it  stood,  with  the 
same  ghastly  effrontery  as  ever  ;  the  tomb  of  Cloudspire's  selectest 
loves,  and  most  sanguine  connubial  hopes  ;  the  very  charnel  house 
of  skeleton  marriages  and  nuptial  bliss ;  of  projected  journeys,  of 
blasted  orange  groves,  of  the  sweetest  of  maidens*  prayers,  and  the 
most  bewitching  of  girlhood's  smiles.  Within  its  detestable  walls, 
William  Steele  had  been  inveiMed. 

The  house  of  God,  standing  near,  was  the  only  asylum  for 
stricken  souls  ;  and  resignedly  these  worshipers  of  the  true  God 
turned  to  its  courts,  as  pale-faced  celibate  nuns,  who  have  re- 
nounced the  world,  to  enter  solemn  cloisters. 

On  the  other  hand,  this  revival  week  had  a  few  substantial  pleas- 
ures. Farmers  had  time  and  opportunity  to  discuss  and  compare 
the  last  year's  crops,  the  average  price  of  stock  and  farms,  the  out- 
look of  politics,  the  stern  policy  of  Jackson,  the  NuUifiers  and  the 
Constitution.  Housewives  gained  new  recipes  for  preserves  and 
pickles,  for  coloring  pale  winter  butter  into  an  article  as  salable  as 
the  yellow  rolls  of  summer,  and  the  precise  amount  of  otter  which 
would  convert  a  tough,  pale,  white-oak  cheese  into  the  hue  of  a 
golden  aurora, —  a  conversion  quite  as  thorough,  and  profitable  as 
those  supernatural  changes  wrought  around  the  anxious  seat. 
Thus  vv-ere  furnished  subjects  of  thought  and  practice,  for  many  a 
rapid  month  to  come. 

Gathered  in  clusters  in  the  high-backed  pews,  they  had  counted 
over  the  increase  of  families  —  sudden  deaths  ;  and  marriages  pros- 
perous or  otherwise, —  they  had  analyzed  their  trying  "  complaints," 
•whose  name  was  Legion  —  compared  hydra-headed  symptoms, 
till  it  was  a  comfort  to  know  that  pain  and  debility  are  the  common 
inheritance  of  woman  ;  to  be  devoutlv  endured  as  the  Providential 
chasteners  of  their  wayward  spirits.  All  these  points  which  the 
pulpit  could  not  appropriately  illumine,  had  been  agitated  ;  and, 
aside  trom  Lucy  Clarendon's  bold,  outrageous  assumption,  the 
gain  had  been  great. 

The  congregation  gathered  around  Richard  Beame.  A  subtle 
manifestation  of  confidence  and  pride  was  observable,  as  his  hear- 
ers got  into  position,  settled  their  garments  and  gazed  at  his 
young    and  earnest  face.     Was   he  not  a  plant  of  their  own  nurs- 


1 66  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

ing  ?  Would  not  the  world  be  indebted  to  that  church,  for  the  gos- 
pel preached  from  his  lips  ?  Had  he  not  been  strengthened  and 
sanctified  by  their  prayers  ?     Even  so,  it  seemed  in  their  sight. 

The  text  appeared  a  wise  selection  ;  compound,  but  bearing 
upon  the  same  point.  It  was  from  Gallatians,  vi.  2,  and  Hebrews 
xiii.  3.  "  Bear  ye  one  another's  burdens  ;  "  and,  *'  Remember  them 
that  are  in  bonds,  as  bound  with  them."  In  Sanctuary  parlance, 
there  was  no  burden  but  sin, —  mysterious,  ever-present,  all-per- 
vading, undefinable  sin.  There  were  no  other  bonds,  but  the  un- 
seen, Eden-forged  chains  of  depravity;  imposed  by  no  mortal,  and 
from  the  power  of  which  no  mortal  was  ever  expected  to  free  those 
bound. 

The  mental  interpretation  of  the  text,  was  complimentary  to  the 
church.  "  Richard  knows  how  we  have  labored  with  those  in  bonds 
during  this  whole  week,  "  ran  through  the  minds  of  the  audience, 
like  an  electric  spark.  For  a  time,  the  speaker  seemed  to  keep  to 
the  old  beaten  track  ;  holding  up  the  example  of  the  Savior  of  men, 
in  seeking  to  save  others  ;  in  going  about  doing  good  ;  but  swerv- 
ing somewhat,  when  he  maintained,  that  the  tenderest  sympathies 
towards  the  suffering  in  this  life,  were  among  tli^  first  fruits  of  re- 
pentance. And  when  he  proclaimed,  that  bread  given  to  the 
hungry ;  clothes  to  the  naked,  and  tears  to  those  who  w^eep,  were 
the  best  evidences  of  conversion,  a  great  apprehension  went  through 
the  house.  Alas !  the  promising  bud  of  the  text  burst  into  a 
strange  blossom!  —  of  foreign  scent  —  and  nourished  in  a  strange 
soil. 

Nevertheless,  Richard  proceeded  to  show  that  the  bonds  which 
they  should  remember,  were  no  ideal  links  which  vaguely  clank 
through  vacant  chambers  of  superstitious  souls.  The  bonds  which 
the  speaker  held  up  to  their  perceptions,  were  real,  tangible:  hard 
and  cold.  These  bonds  were  veritable  chains, —  made  by  hands  of 
flesh  and  blood  !  wrought  from  iron  bars,  heated  to  redness  among 
the  hot  glowing  coals  of  a  blacksmith's  forge  !  welded  link  by  link 
on  a  smithy's  anvil  !  where  living,  muscular  arms,  in  sleeves  rolled 
to  the  shoulder,  plied  stroke  after  stroke,  and  blow  after  blow,  with 
the  measured  precision  of  a  tolling  bell !  and  often,  too  often,  toss- 
ing in  tlie  sharp  dissonance  with  the  hallowed  roll  —  both  floating 
heavenward  together. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  167 

These  bonds  which  Richard  pictured  to  public  gaze,  were  iron 
manacles,  hard  and  heartless, —  shaped  for  wrists  of  tlesh.  They 
could  chafe,  and  blister  the  skin,—  and  like  hungry  wolves,  find 
the  red  blood  beneath.  These  bonds  were  fetters,  riveted  by  the 
workman  ;  with  his  box  of  tools  beside  him,  upon  the  ankles  and 
limbs  of  fellow  travelers  to  the  great  white  Throne  ;  and  to  the 
golden  streets  of  the  saints'  abode.  These  fetters  could  corrode 
and  canker  the  incarnate  images  of  God  !  could  eat  into  the  ten- 
dons like  cruel  fangs;  and  make  each  step  towards  Heaven,  in- 
fernal. 

The  bonds  Richard  bade  them  remember,  were  the  chains,  man- 
acles, and  fetters  of  chattel  slavery.  More!  the  burdens  to  be 
borne  were  the  groans,  tears,  and  the  privations  of  the  American 
slave.  He  averred  that  the  exercise  of  the  master's  prerogative 
was  wanting  in  every  essential  of  Christianity. 

Indignation  and  consternation  seized  his  hearers.  Each  scanned 
the  face  of  the  other,  for  some  plan  of  action.  William  Steele 
opened  the  way.  He  rose,  gave  his  arm  to  Lucy,  led  her  from  the 
church  to  her  fathers,  and  returned.  As  he  entered,  Richard  was 
recounting,  with  liquid  eyes,  the  horrors  of  the  auction  block,  the 
lash,  and  the  chain  gang.  For  a  time,  the  inherent  sovereignty  of 
Truth  dismayed,  and  held  his  mutinous  congregation  in  abeyance. 
The  overseer's  hasty  step  was  heard  advancing  up  the  aisle.  This 
pillar  of  strength  came  to  the  front.  With  a  rallying  cry,  his  angry 
voice  protested  against  the  further  desecration  of  God's  Holy 
Sanctuary.  He  announced  the  words  of  the  speaker  a  delusion, 
and  a  lie!  "Richard  Beame  is  a  fanatic !  a  leader  of  sedition! 
He  bears  the  torch  of  destruction  to  the  fair  fabric  of  our  National 
Union,  and  to  Freedom!"  His  enraged  eyes  surveyed  and  ap- 
pealed to  every  part  of  the  audience. 

"  Let  him  dare  to  utter  those  sentiments  in  Charleston,  or  any 
part  of  South  Carolina,  a  dozen  ready  bullets  would  stain  the  pul- 
pit with  his  traitorous  blood  !  or,  if  he  escaped  therefrom,  the 
bowie  knife  would  find  its  swift  revenge.'' 

Springing  upon  a  seat,  with  both  arms  extended,  he  yelled,— 

"  My  brethren  in  the  church  militant !  I  call  upon  you  to  rid  your- 
selves of  this  miscreant  in  sheep's  clothing." 

Confusion  reigned  ;  the  clergy    and  leaders  came  to  their  feet. 


1 63  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Doors  slammed  after  those  rushing  out.  The  tramping,  and  shuf- 
fling of  feet  filled  pews  and  aisles  ;  it  came  pouriiig  down  stairs, 
mingled  with  sharp,  resentful  voices.  Above  the  din,  like  the 
harsh  piping  of  the  wind  in  a  storm,  Edmund  Stone,  the  luinch 
back,  begged  to  be  heard. 

"  I  desire  to  recoid  my  testimony  against  this  innovation!  Po- 
litical and  secular  affairs  have  no  place  in  the  church.  The 
church  repudiates  this  sanguinary  agitation.  It  incites  the  savage 
African  hordes  of  our  sister  South,  to  insurrection  a,)d  murder  !  I 
hereby  free  my  skirts  from  joining  hands  with  this  unholy  and 
misguided  philanthropy.'' 

Farther  expression  was  overpowered.  The  Willies,  the  Eddies, 
and  the  Joes,  who  had  just  "  accepted  Christ,"  the  young  cubs  of 
the  iair,  set  up  vehement  roarings, — 

'•  Put  him  out  1  Choke  the  abolitionist !  Drag  him  down  !  drag 
him  down  !" 

Women  rose  to  their  feet,  despite  the  admonition  of  Paul,  that 
they  should  sit  still.  They  indignantly  discussed  in  under  tones, 
assisted  by  significant  noddings  and  shaking  of  bonnets,  Richard's 
unheard  of  temerity.  From  their  discussions  dropped  these 
pearly  words, — 

"  Niggers  !  "    "  Our  daughters  !  "  "  Amalgamation  !  "  ''  Marry  !  " 

The  ministers  left  the  pulpit;  Richard  followed  alone.  The 
crowd  obliged  him  to  halt  on  the  stairs — head  and  shoulders 
above  them.  Paleness  and  surprise  froze  his  features.  Some- 
thing white  and  round  shied  over  them,  and  struck  him  in  the 
forehead.  The  snow-ball  burst,  blinding  him  with  fine  snow. 
Llesitating,  and  nearly  stunned,  something  smaller  struck  him  on 
the  shoulder,  and  then  again  on  the  side  of  his  head.  A  praying 
hand  hurled  these  eggs.  Richard's  fine  coat  was  stained  and 
dripping  with  the  strange  offerings  of  brotherly  love. 

"  Put  out  the  abolitionist !  "  "  Go  home,  fanatic  !  "  "  Take  an- 
other !  "  "  Amalgamation  1 "  chimed  in,  with  another  storm  of  eggs 
and  snow-balls,  as  handily  as  they  would  have  sung  "Old  Hundred," 
or  "  The  Lord  into  His  garden  comes." 

Richard  reached  the  floor;  there,  sheltered  by  the  roystering 
crew,  the  pelting  ceased.  He  could  not  advance,  but  remained 
standino-.     Not  a  friend  offered  sympathy  or  advice.     The  vocif- 


"TB  XETER  KXETV^  GOD." 


WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK   JUNE.  i6q 

erations  of  deacons  and  laymen,  of  old  and  young,  in  vain  efforts 
to  be  heard,  clashed  like  broadswords.  "Put  him  out!  put  him 
out !     rang  through  the  house. 

Fanny  sprang  from  Deacon  Steele's  pew,  down  the  aisle,  around 
by  the    East  door,  where    the  crowd  was  thinnest.     Workino-  her 

way  through  to  her  brother,  she  put  her  arm  through  his'' sav- 
mg,—  ^  '      J 

"Let  us  go,  my  poor  brother  !  Let  us  go  home  for  safety  I 
will  walk  with  you.     Where  is  your  hat,  dear  Richard .?  " 

His  head  bowed  to  her  ear. 

"  In  the  pulpit." 

Up  the  stairs  she  flew;  all  eyes  followed  her:  glaring  uDon 
this  second  superlative  breach  of  decorum,  but  ferocity  grew  tame 
at  the  sight.  In  an  instant,  her  flushed  and  tearful  face  looked 
over  the  open  "  Steele  "  Bible,  reposing  on  its  royal  bed  ;  and  met 
the  upturned  gaze  below.  Stretching  out  one  small  hand  and  arm 
over  their  heads,  she  cried,— 

"  Men  and  women  of  the  church  of  Cloudspire !  do  you  dare  to 
call  yourselves  the  children  of  the  Most  High .?  Do  yon  dare  to 
insult  and  spit  upon  His  young  servant,  because  he  has  spoken  to 
you  this  day,  the  Eternal  Truth  >  Do  you  call  yourselves  the  fol- 
lowers of  Him  whose  name  is  Love." 

Her  hand  \yent  up  in  the  direction  where  her  faith  still  cluno-  • 
and  while  falling  tears  gave  a  significant  baptism  to  the  guilty 
pages  which  received  them,  her  clear  and  steady  modulation,  cleft 
the  air ;  rang  to  the  ceiling,— 

"  Ye  never  knew  Christ  1  ye  never  knew  God  !  "  In  another  mo- 
ment, she  had  glided  down,  given  Richard  his  hat,  and  with  her 
arm  in  his,  was  walking  through  the  space,  voluntarily  opened  for 

Thus  will  weak,  pusillanimous  man  yield  to  girlhood's  attrac- 
tions  ^vhat  he  refuses  to  Justice,  and  to  Omnipotence  itself. 
V  v!^'\  i  ;^early  gained  the  door,  when  a  quick  hand  knocked 
Richard  s  hat  to  the  floor.  Another  caught  it  up,  and  threw  it 
from  the  green  door,  rolling  on  the  snow.  Deacon  Steele  hastily 
climbed  to  the  back  of  a  pew,  (under  more  concern  for  Fanny 
than  for  her  brother,)  and  cried, 

"  I  protest  against  any  further  abuse,  brethren !     I  shall  take 


170  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

that  brother  and  sister  in  my  sleigh.     Let  them  depart  in  peace." 

Like  wild  animals  whose  appetites  have  been  whetted  by  a  taste 
of  flesh,  there  was  no  restraint.  ''  No !  no  !  no !  He  shall 
walk  !  " 

William  Steele  fiercely  caught  the  deacon's  attention  w^ith  a 
saving  rebuke, — 

"  No   compromise   with    amalgamation    and    infidelity ! " 

''No  compromise  !  no  compromise  !  "  was  taken  up  by  a  hundred 
voices  ;  till  the  very  air  was  drunken  with  the  war-cry  of  their  South- 
ern masters. 

They  passed  out :  Fanny  picked  up  Richard's  hat,  and  they  were 
allowed  to  depart  without  further  molestation. 

They  took  the  middle  of  the  road  to  Alderbank.  It  was  not  well 
traveled  since  the  storm  of  the  day  previous  ;  and  every  step 
plunged  ankle  deep  in  untrodden  snow.  They  soon  made  a  turn 
in  the  road,  and  a  short  descent.  Just  ahead,  blocking  the  path, 
a  sleigh  waited.  Expecting  fresh  insult  and  about  to  step  out  in 
the  deep  snow,  to  pass,  the  cheery  voice  of  Simon  Link  bade  them 
stop. 

"  Let  me  drive  out  a  leetle,  and  then  you  get  in  here.  You  see, 
I  slipped  out  o'that  air  meetin'  house,  when  they  was  a  fighting, 
and  backed  out  o'  that  air  shed,  and  come  on  here,  a  purpose  to 
wait  for  ye.  " 

"  No,  Simon  ;  let  us  walk !  I  should  be  sorry  to  bring  you  into 
judgment  with  the  church,  for  taking  me  into  your  sleigh !  Fanny 
dear,  you  can  ride.  I  will  walk.  A  good  soldier  must  -  endure 
hardness  for  Christ's  sake.  " 

"  Walk  or  ride,  I  shall  go  with  you  !  "  decided  Fanny, 

"  Git  in  here  !  "  urged  Simon,  ( thrashing  his  arms. )  "  What 
do  I  care  for  the  judgment  of  such  folks  ?  It's  the  Lord  that  leads 
us  beside  the  still  waters  and  green  pastures  !  It  ain't  men  !  Git 
in  Richard!  that's  right!  What  a  shameful  sight  you  air!  daubed 
over  with  them  eggs,  from  head  to  foot  1  and  wet  through  to  your 
skin  with  them  melted  snow  balls !  I've  took  an  extra  buffalo  to 
cover  you  up.  " 

He  tucked  in  Richard  up  to  his  neck,  with  the  best  robe,  and 
threw  the  faded  one  over  Fanny.  He  hopped  again  into  the  snow 
on  her  side,  and  drew  the  soft  hay  in  a  heap  about  her.     "  There  ! 


WHITE   MAY,   AND      BLACK  JUNE.  171 

bury  your  wet  feet  in  that, —  it's  better'n  nothing.  This  old  biiffa- 
ler's  tore  some  ;  but  I  know  you  won't  see  it,  as  long  as  Richard's 
warm,  and  there's  a  horse  ahead.  *'  He  was  in  again,  knocking  the 
snow  from  his  feet,  wrapping  his  old  butternut-colored  blanket 
about  him,  and  gathering  up  the  lines. 

"  I'll  set  so  you  can  see  Thunderbolt ;  this  ere  sorrel's  mine. 
You  like  bosses.  Miss  Fanny;  and  he'll  take  you  to  Alderbank  in 
no  time  !     He's  of  a  long-stepping  breed.  " 

"You  are  so  good,  Simon;"  said  Fanny.  "Wall!  I  ain't  no 
better'n  I  ought  ter  be.  I've  knowed  you  two,  for  some  years.  I 
know  ye  both,  through  and  through  ;  an'  I  ain't  a  goin'  to  see  ye 
walk  four  mile  in  the  snow,  for  anybody.  Go  on  thunderbolt ! 
Show  Miss  Fanny  your  largest,  handsomest  tracks!  See  that? 
He  skims  over  the  road  like  a  deer.  I  never  struck  him  a  blow 
yet,  an'  I  never  shall.  Ye  see,  Richard,  I  feared  what  they'd  do! 
I've  seen  jes  such  carryin's  on  out  West.  I  see  a  man  took  out  of 
a  hall;  carried  to  a  place  where  they  had  a  fire,  and  a  kittle  o'tar  ; 
they  stripped  off  his  clothes ;  shaved  his  head,  an'  covered  him 
completely  with  the  tar  and  a  piller  full  of  feathers.  There  was 
two  fine  dressed  gentlemen  there,  standin'  and  lookin'  on,  and  tell- 
in'  the  rest  what  to  do.  Somebody  told  me  they  were  Southern- 
ers from  Georgia.  One  of  'em  took  his  ridin'  whip,  gave  the  naked 
man  some  sharp  cuts ;  and  told  him  that  was  the  medicine  for  agi- 
tarors.  The  poor  feller  ran  for  his  life,  nobody  cared  where.  It 
was  all  because  he  told  the  people  that  slavery  wasn't  a  Christian 
institution  !  These  two  men  called  him  an  infidel ;  and  said  they'd 
teach  him  to  believe  the  Bible !  " 

"  Did  you  ever  know  what  became  of  him  ?  "  asked  Fanny. 

"  Wall !  I  let  my  drove  o'cattle  lay  over  one  day  to  rest.  By  one 
means  an'  another  I  found  out  a  Quaker  family  about  three  miles 
off,  took  him  in.  That  night  I  went  there;  told  'em  I  was  a  friend ; 
an'  they  let  me  into  his  room.  He  was  sick  a-bed ;  but  them 
Quakers  was  as  good  to  him,  as  if  he  was  their  own  son.  I  had 
some  money  in  my  wallet ;  I  gave  him  what  I  could  spare.  Be- 
fore the  sun  was  up  the  next  mornin',  I  was  drivin'  my  cattle 
towards  the  East." 

They   glided   on  awhile  in  silence.      Fanny  knew  not   how   to 


172  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

frame   words,  either  to  condemn  these  barbarities,  or  to  reconcile 
tliem  with  her  preconceived  ideas  of  the  sjDirit  of  the  church. 

Richard  also  pondered  upon  the  past  few  hours.  Where  had  he 
been?  In  the  body,  or  out  ?  Had  the  lost  spirits  risen  up  from 
the  pit  of  the  damned,  and  in  a  dance  of  demons  overthrown  his 
reason,  and  driven  him  out  with  the  mark  of  Cain  upon  him  ?  Was 
he  a  sorcerer  ?  or  was  the  church  a  body  of  magicians  ?  Had  he 
been  practising  the  '•  black  art,"  or  had  they  ?  Had  he  learned 
anything  at  the  Seminary  ?     What  was  sin,  and  where  was  it  ? 

Simon  turned  about  sideways.  An  angel  seemed  to  address 
them.     Love,  mercy  and  compassion,  irradiated  his  features. 

"  Richard,  I  like  the  poor  hunted  critters  that  our  forefathers 
mailed  down  under  the  Constitution.     I  pity  'em." 

That  was  the  cordial  both  brother  and  sister  needed.  That 
was  the  good  Samaritan  who  placed  it  to  their  fainting  lips.  It 
was  the  composing  draught  which  settled  perturbed  ideas,  and  led 
reason  back  to  its  accustomed  seat.  It  was  the  pure  white  manna 
from  Heaven,  on  which  their  souls  fed,  and  were  refreshed. 

Good  Simon  Link  knew  not  the  height,  or  depth  of  his  own  utter- 
ance. He  knew  not  that  he  had  spoken  words  for  the  healing  of 
the  nation ;  that  the  simple  phrases,  "  I  like  the  poor  hunted  crit- 
ters," and  "I  pity  ^em,"  was  the  Higher  Law,  straight  from  the 
Great  White  Throne, —  supreme  above  all  jurisprudence,  and  its 
crippled  administration  of  justice, —  above  all  man's  complicated 
machinery  for  governing  man,  above  all  courts,  above  all  juries, 
above  all  jails,  above  all  penitentiaries.  He  knew  not  what  a  halo 
it  set  about  his  head,  nor  when  or  where  it  was  written  upon  his 
spirit. 

Did  unseen  seraphs  whisper  it  in  the  winds  from  the  mountain 
tops  ?  Did  he  learn  it  from  the  dumb  droves  with  which  he  jour- 
neyed league  after  league  and  year  after  year  ?  More  probably 
than  from  his  own  kind.  Perhaps  from  the  helpless  bleatings  of 
his  tired  lambs.  Perhaps  from  the  gentle,  weary  eyes  of  his  oxen. 
Perhaps  from  the  fidelity  and  aifection  of  his  beloved  shepherd 
dogs.  Simon  Link  had  neither  wife  or  child.  He  had  never  seen 
his  father;  his  mother  let  go  his  hands  and  folded  her  own  in  her 
grave,  while  his  little  feet  scarce  toddled  alone,  and  left  him  an  un- 
welcome legacy  to  the  world.     That  world  tossed  him  up    to   man- 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  1 73 

hood,  as  a  burly  teamster  would  toss  a  ragged  bundle  to  the  top  of 
his  well-filled  wagon. 

He  was  never  supposed  to  be  a  child  of  God,  till  this  revival  week 
—  and  yet  his  lips  dropped  wisdom  which  wise  men  rejected.  If 
Simon  Link's  words,  "  I  like  the  poor  hunted  critters,  an'  I  pity 
'em,"  were  chiseled  on  the  gates  of  cities ;  at  the  entrance  of  com- 
mercial marts  \  over  banker's  and  broker's  doors ;  on  college  walls  ; 
and  the  desks  of  common  schools;  above  the  Presidents  chair; 
and  were  emblazoned  on  the  dome  of  the  Capitol ;  it  would  have 
been  the  panacea  for  years  of  crimson  wrongs  and  retributive  woes. 
It  would  have  changed  the  clashing  of  political  creeds,  the  coarse 
mutterings  of  ignorance,  the  wailings  for  bread  and  the  groans  of 
oppressed  races,  into  the  harmonious  music  of  the  spheres. 

Simon  kept  on  talking  with  the  kindly  aim  of  keeping  his  two 
passengers  from  thinking  on  themselves.  "  There's  a  black  feller 
out  in  York  State  that  always  helps  me  get  my  droves  over  the 
mountains.  He's  more  a  brother  to  me  than  any  white  man  on  the 
road.  His  name  is  Monday.  He  w^as  a  slave.  His  master  took 
his  wife,  a  black  woman,  and  made  her  his  own  wife.  There's  yer 
high-blooded  grandee  with  a  black  wife ;  stole  from  her  own  hus- 
band. He  sold  jMonday's  three  children  and  hired  Monday  out ; 
as  we  hire  out  bosses.  Monday  run  away  to  the  North.  His 
story  all  told  is  enough  to  make  a  stout  man's  heart  stand  still. 
Them  Southerners'll  find  a  strong  hand  dealin'  with  'em  by  and  by 
for  such  iniquity.  Here  we  are,  at  home.  Miss  Fanny,  didn't 
Thunderbolt  bring  you  quick  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Simon,  he's  beautiful,  and  he's  good  like  his  master !  I 
cannot  find  words  to  thank  you.  Come  in  to  a  warm  fire  and 
supper." 

"  No,  not  now.  I've  a  good  many  friends  in  my  barn  that  have 
waited  all  day  for  me,  I  feed  them  before  I  feed  myself.  Good 
afternoon." 

The  church  of  Cloudspire,  from  open  doors,  crowded  windows, 
creaking  benches  and  tops  of  pews,  saw  Richard  and  Fanny  out  of 
sight,  on  their  journey  of  martyrdom  ;  with  the  feeling  that  good 
service  had  been  done  for  God,  Moses  and  the  Constitution. — The 
mobocratic  effervescence  subsided.  The  clergy  withdrew  from  the 
yet   noisy  faithful,  and  held  a  low  conference  —  William  Steele  in 


174  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

their   midst.     After  this  they  ascended   to  the   pulpit    and    were 
seated  as  before. 

WilHam  Steele  took  a  chair  on  the  altar.  The  people  assorted 
themselves  out  into  their  respective  pews.  Those  who  fled  at  the 
first  mention  of  "slave,"  entered  at  different  doors.  Prudence 
White  came  from  under  the  buffalo  robes  of  the  deacon's  sleigh  ; 
whither  she  resorted  as  soon  as  the  drift  of  the  sermon  broke  upon 
her.  She  afterwards  confessed  to  the  deacon's  wife  that  she 
almost  riz  right  up  to  rebuke  Richard  on  the  spot.  Indeed  she 
had  opened  her  lips  for  that  purpose,  and  drawn  her  breath  and 
got  as  far  as  "  I ;  "  when  she  felt  the  cold  hand  of  St.  Paul  on  her 
mouth  ;  and  she  ran  from  the  spot. 

At  the  east  door  entered  Lottie,  looking  pale  and  frightened; 
supported  by  Mrs.  Clarendon's  Hester;  who  walked  with  her  to  a 
seat ;  adjusted  a  shawl  about  her  shoulders,  and  turned  away  to 
the  negro  pew,  under  the  gallery  stairs.  Lottie  had  fainted  during 
the  melee  ;  all  were  glad  to  take  breath  after  the  Holy  War.  The 
silence  grew  complete.  Everybody's  eyebrows  were  elevated, — 
everybody's  eyes  were  religiously  cast  down, —  everybody's  lip's 
were  tightly  closed, —  everybody's  mouth  properly  drew  down  at 
the  corners, —  everybody's  hands  meekly  clasped  together. 

The  revered  mouthpiece  and  representative  of  Southern  Despot- 
ism, rose  slowly  from  his  seat  on  the  altar. 

"  My  brethren  in  the  Lord  :  I  did  not  expect  during  this  short 
visit  to  my  native  land,  to  have  so  golden  an  opportunity  of  de- 
fending our  holy  faith,  and  our  united  National  interests,  against 
its  rising  enemies  !  I  had  not  the  honor  of  knowing  your  zeal  in 
defense  of  the  two  anchors  of  our  Union  and  Prosperity,  the  Bible, 
and  the  Constitution.  Allow  me  to  say,  I  am  more  than  grati- 
fied at  the  development  of  your  firmness  in  this  house  to-day  1  I 
shall  bear  your  record  of  resistance  to  false  teachers,  and  false 
doctrines  to  the  gentlemen  of  my  adopted  State.  I  shall  show 
them  that  your  devotion  to  the  institutions  of  our  Country  is  as 
deep  as  theirs.  Southern  gentlemen  have  ample  time  for  thought, 
and  for  weighing  accurately  in  the  political  balance,  the  rights  of 
each  section  of  our  Union.  Their  cool  blood  is  never  stirred  by 
vulgar  or  inadequate  impulses.      They  are  not  neophytes  in   na- 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  1 75 

tional,  or  civil  polity.     But,  my  friends,  they  are  sorely  exasperated 
at  increasing  instances  of  Northern  treachery. 

Were  these  insolent,  plotting  traitors  to  our  country  within  the 
sound  of  my  voice,  I  would  bid  them  beware  !  beware  ! 

'  The  knightly  and  the  blooded  arm 
That  holds  the  lance  to-da}', 
Hath  equal  valor  'gainst  a  foe, 
As  in  the  ancient  fray. ' " 

Signs  of  commendation  fell  on  his  ear,  footsteps  gently  raked  the 
gritty  floor,  stiff  camlet  cloaks  rustled,  red  bandanas  shook  out 
their  wrinkles,  noses  gave  forth  victorious  signals,  throats  cleared 
as  if  draughts  of  honey  had  been  passed  about ;  or,  if  more  pleas- 
ing to  the  reader,  a  quick  touch  of  St.  Vitus'  dance  animated  the 
joyful  congregation.     He  continued, — 

"  As  I  am  about  to  leave,  some  counsel  may  be  due  you  on  the 
growing  agitation  which  at  present  prevails  all  over  our  land.  You 
may  thus  be  spared  the  painful  exercise  of  sympathy  with  an  un- 
worthy object.  The  negro,  as  you  are  aware,  was  imported  to  this 
country  from  Africa.  He  is  of  a  different  race  from  any  other  on 
the  face  of  the  globe.  According  to  great  and  scientific  minds,  he  is 
allied  to  the  brute.  In  proof  of  this  I  will  give  you  an  extract  from 
a  late  author  in  New  York. 

He  drew  from  his  pocket  a  note-book. 

"  This  book,  which  I  would  recommend  to  3'our  purchase  and 
perusal,  is  entitled,  '  Evidences  against  the  views  of  Abolitionists  ; 
consisting  of  physical  and  moral  proofs  of  the  natural  inferiority  of 
the  nesfroes.'  "    He  read, — 

"  '  His  (the  negroe's)  lips  are  thick,  his  zygomatic  muscles  large 
and  full,  his  jaws  large  and  projecting,  his  chin  retreating,  his 
forehead  low,  flat  and  slanting  ;  and,  as  a  consequence  of  this  lat- 
ter character,  his  eyeballs  are  very  prominent,  apparently  larger 
than  those  of  white  men.  All  of  the  peculiarities  at  the  same  time 
contributing  to  reduce  his  facial  angle,  almost  to  a  level  with  the 
brute.  If,  then,  it  is  consistent  with  science  to  believe,  that  the 
mind  will  be  great  in  proportion  to  the  size  and  figure  of  the  bram^  it 
is  equally  resonable  to  suppose  that  the  acknowledged  meanness 
of   the  negro's   intellect   only  coincides  with  the  shape  of  his  head  \ 


176  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

or,  in  other  words,  that  his  want  of  capacity  to  receive  a  compli- 
cated education,  renders  it  improper  and  impolitic  that  he  should 
be  allowed  the  privileges  of  citizenship,  in  an  enlightened 
country.' 

"These  are  my  views,  my  friends,  and  as  you  see,  the  general 
opinion  ;  —  except  by  a  few  late  fanatics,  who  are  making  the  vain 
attempt  to  bring  these  degraded  creatures  to  a  level  with  them- 
selves." 

A  short,  piercing  laugh  startled  the  riveted  attention,  and  died 
out  in  a  stifled  giggle.  It  was  a  ludicrous  little  scream,  apparently 
set  going  by  something  ridiculous,  or  surprising.  It  was  conta- 
gious, for  the  young  girls  smiled,  as  their  neads  turned  in  search 
of  the  offender.  It  was  contagious,  for  a  sunny  gleam  flashed  up 
in  the  eyes  of  the  young  men ;  and  many  a  stiff-set  sanctuary 
mouth  lost  its  grimace.  The  watchful  ear  of  the  tithing-man 
guided  his  step  to  the  pew  under  the  stairs.  All  eyes  followed 
him.  There  sat  Hester,  guiltily  bending  her  face  out  of  sight, 
under  her  sheltering  hood,  and  holdmg  one  corner  of  her  shawl  to 
her  mouth.  She  heard  the  feet  stop  at  her  pew,  (  it  had  no  door.) 
and  raised  her  head  sufficiently  to  see  his  hand  beckoning.  She 
arose,  her  head  still  lowered,  and  came  into  the  aisle.  Hester 
heard  the  tart  words, — 

''  This  is  the  house  of  God  !     Go  !     Leave  it !  " 

She  passed  slowly  out,  groping  in  her  pocket  for  a  handkerchief 
to  clear  away  the  few  blinding  tears  yet  left  in  her  heart  for  her- 
self, and  her  trampled  race.  Something  caught  in  her  handker- 
chief and  fell  upon  the  floor.  A  warbling  ring  of  a  silver  piece 
disturbed  the  hallowed  air.  She  stooped,  picked  it  up  ,  and  re- 
stored it  to  her  pocket. 

Proof  sufficient!  It  was  hers  —  a  fifty-cent  piece!  (Every  far- 
mer then  knew  the  exact  ring  of  a  quarter,  a  half-dollar  or  a  dol- 
lar.) A  black  thief  doubtless  !  A  case  for  the  law !  Pleading 
poverty  !  Begging  old  clothes  for  her  boy  !  She  should  have  no 
more  !  Destitute  of  veneration  !  of  honest}'  I  Head  to  small ! 
Brutish  in  every  particular !  So  ran  exclamatory  thought,  till  the 
man  of  law  and  order  shut  the  door  upon  her. 

Quiet  being  restored,  the  speaker  read  from  his  valuable  notes. 

*if   we    were   constrained  to  admire  so  uncommon  a  being,    (a 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  1 77 

pious,  highly  cultivated,  scientific  negro,)  our  very  admiration  would 
be  mingled  with  disgust,  because  in  the  physical  organization  of 
his  frame,  we  meet  an  insurmountable  barrier  even  to  approach  to 
social  intercourse ;  and  in  the  Egyptian  color,  which  nature  has 
stamped  on  his  features,  a  principle  so  strong  as  to  forbid  the  idea 
of  a  communion,  either  oiinterestoi  oifeeling^is  utterly  abhorrent'  " 
(AL  Rep.,  Vol.  7,  p.  331.) 

"This  is  the  feeling  of  our  wisest  and  best  men.  One  more 
quotation  from  a  high  authority  and  I  have  done.  Henry  Clay 
in  a  speech,  said  of  the  free  blacks  ;  '  of  all  the  descriptions  of  our 
population  and  of  either  portion  of  this  African  race,  the  free  per- 
sons of  color  are  by  far,  as  a  class,  the  most  corrupt,  depraved  and 
abandoned.'  " 

"  Now  the  people  of  the  South  who  have  negroes  under  their  con- 
trol as  laborers,  are  well  informed  respecting  these  abolitionists. 
They  demand  all  friends  of  law  and  order  to  suppress  discussion 
on  slavery.  They  are  resolved  to  ferret  out  these  emissaries. 
They  have  formed  committees  of  vigilance,  who  will  punish  by  im- 
prisonment and  lynch  law  suspected  persons.  Georgia  has 
already  offered  a  rev/ard  of  five  thousand  dollars  to  any  one  who 
will  arrest  and  bring  to  that  State,  William  Lloyd  Garrison  —  a 
citizen  of  Massachusetts. 

"  These  are  a  few  facts,  my  brethren,  which  it  will  be  well  to  pon- 
der. Our  beloved  and  Reverend  minister  will  continue  the  subject, 
for  the  purpose  of  enlightening  you  still  farther." 

The  vigilance  committee,  the  five  thousand  dollar  reward,  and 
the  lynch  law,  proved  an  excellent  counter  irritant ;  and  St.  Vitus' 
enthusiam  cooled. 

Rev.  Augustus  Johns  next  made  a  short,  but  pointed  address 
from  the  pulpit,  on  the  claims  of  the  Colonization  Society.  He 
showed  that  there  was  no  human  power  to  counteract  the  causes 
which  prevent  the  elevation  of  free  blacks  in  this  country ;  that 
Africa  was  their  proper  place,  and  they  should  be  returned  there  ; 
that  the  Colonization  Society  had  this  beneficent  object  in  view,  of 
transporting  them  thither;  that  it  was  founded  in  i8i6j  that  the 
Legislatures  of  fourteen  States  had  already  passed  resolutions  in 
its  favor;  that  it  originated  in  Virginia,  and  of  its  seventeen  vice- 
l^residents,   twelve   were   elected    from    Southern  States ;  that   the 


lyS  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Society  opened  an  avenue  in  which  they  could  labor  for  the  negro, 
within  Constitutional  limits. 

He  recommended  the  organization  to  their  earnest  consideration  ; 
and  that  they  might  the  better  understand  its  true  spirit,  read 
extracts  from  its  organ,  the  "African  Repository"  ;  and  also  from 
addresses  of  several  States,  in  order  that,  as  he  said,  "  they  might 
be  established  in  their  goings."  These  extracts  from  pro-slavery 
writers  were  the  side-arms  which  were  carried  about  for  attack  and 
defense.  Bloodless  weapons,  to  be  sure ;  but  deadly  to  those  un- 
armed with  argument  or  moral  courage.     Hear  him  ! 

''  I  have  made  these  special  selections,  my  Christian  friends,  and 
bear  them  about  me  ;  so  that  as  occasion  requires,  I  may  cast  them 
like  oil  upon  the  troubled  waters  of  our  beloved  country.  My  first 
is  taken  from  the  Editorial  of  Af.  Rep.,  Vol.  7,  p.  196." 

'  The  people  of  color  must  in  this  country  remain  for  ages,  prob- 
ably y^r^z'^/-,  a  separate  and  distinct  caste ;  weighed  down  by  causes 
powerful,  universal,  invincible, —  which  neither  Legislation  nor 
Christianity  can  remove.' 

The  second  is  taken  from  an  address  of  the  Conn.  Col.  Society. 
He  read  with  great  emphasis  and  solemnity, — 

"'The  habits,  the  feelings,  all  the  prejudices  of  Society,  preju- 
dices which  neither  refinement,  nor  argument,  nor  education,  nor 
Religion  itself  am  subdue,  mark  the  people  of  color,  whether  bond  or 
free,  as  the  subjects  of  a  degradation,    inevitable    and  incurable.'  " 

"Thirdly,  hear  my  friends,  the  Kentucky  Col.  Society  in  their  offi- 
cial address." 

"It  is  against  the  increase  of  colored  persons,  who  tahe  a  nom- 
inal freedom  and  cannot  rise  from  their  degraded  condition,  that 
this  society  attempts  to  provide. 

"  Fourthly,  from  the  Memorial  of  the  New  York  State  Col.  Societ}', 
to  the  Legislature." 

" '  We  do  not  ask  that  the  provisions  of  our  Constitution  and 
Statute  Book  should  be  so  modified  as  to  relieve  and  exalt  the  con- 
dition of  the  colored  people,  whilst  they  ?'e}?iain  with  us.  Let  these 
provisions  stand  in  all  their  rigor,  to  work  out  the  ultimate  and  un- 
bounded good  of  these  people.' 

"  I  could  proceed  much  father,  enforcing  these  principles  by  the 
precedent  of  other  States  and  eminent  individuals  ;  but  I   deem   it 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  1 70 

only  necessary  to  present  a  final  authority  to  your  judgment ;  and 
to  convince  you  that  these  opinions  already  presented,  are  based 
upon  experiences  fully  coinciding  with  that  authority.  As  an  am- 
bassador of  Christ,  I  desire  to  present  you  the  whole  truth,  and 
here  offer  the  reference. 

'"The  managers  consider  it  clear  that  causes  exist,  and  are 
operating  to  prevent  their  improvement  and  elevation  to  any  con- 
siderable extent  as  a  class  in  this  country,  which  are  fixed  not  only 
beyond  the  control  of  the  friends  of  humanity,  but  of  any  human 
power.  Christianity  f^;?;^^/  do  for  them  here  what  it  will  do  for 
them  in  Africa.  This  is  not  the  fault  of  the  colored  man,  nor  of 
the  white  man,  but  an  ordination  of  Providence  ;  and  no  more 
to  be  changed  than  the  Laws  of  Nature.' 

"  It  must  be  kept  before  the  chucrhes,  that  whoever  persists  in 
the  agitation  against  slavery ;  and  in  improving  the  condition  of 
the  negro  in  this  country, —  I  repeat,  whoever  does  this,  sets  him- 
self against  the  Supreme  Will." 

^  A  whispered  conference  ;  and  Rev.  Luther  Winfield  came  up  be- 
hind the  purple  couch  of  the  Southern  gift, —  presenting  to  the  o-aze 
a  mass  of  personal  attractions.  A  waxen  skin,  rose-colored  cheliks, 
sapphire  eyes,  and  auburn  hair,  were  the  sweet  and  persuasive 
premises  on  which  his  arguments  ever  rested.  He  wished  to  say 
that  the  sentiments  expressed  by  his  colleagues  vibrated  through 
every  fiber  of  his  heart.  But  he  proposed  to  turn  to  a  more  agree- 
able and  exalted  object  of  contemplation, —  the  Southerner  hirnself. 

"  The  political  associations  of  the  South  differ  essentially  from 
ours.  By  this  dissimilarity,  as  well  as  by  birth,  the  Southerner's 
character  is  distinctive.  His  alliances  are"  ancient  —  with  the  Old 
World  —  aristocratic  and  royal.  This  noble,  high  blood  has  been 
proudly  kept  in  the  purest  channels,  so  that  the  knightly  courtesy 
of  the  days  of  chivalry  is  its  inherent,  and  most  brilliant  quality. 
The  Southerners  are  a  people  of  rigid  integrity,  and  a  most  delicate 
sense  of  honor, —  an  honor  that  brooks  not  insult,  from  subordinate 
or  equal.  They  have  the  advantages  of  unstinted  wealth,  broad 
culture,  and  the  polish  of  foreign  travel.  Their  generous  open- 
handed  hospitality  is  baronial  and  world-renowned.  They  inherit 
the  sunniest  portion  —  the  garden  of  the  United  States.  To  us  is 
given  the  cold  and  rugged  North. 


l8o  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

"Their  slaves  are  an  inheritance  of  the  past,  guaranteed  to  them 
by  our  common  Constitution,  from  which  no  human  arm  can  wrest 
that  guaranty.  These  slaves  are  happy  and  content;  they  sing 
every  day  at  their  work,  and  dance  around  their  cabin  fires  at 
night.  They  desire  no  change  in  their  condition  ;  but  are  gratified 
to  have  been  brought  to  a  land  of  religious  light  and  knowledge, 
where  they  may  be  taught  to  know  God,  and  His  dealings  with  men." 

He  grew  warm.  Each  cheek  flushed  into  a  crimson  rose,  and 
his  lips  into  two  twin  cherries. 

"What  are  the  Abolitionists,  I  ask  ?  A  handful  of  idiotic  dwarfs, 
raising  their  puny  hands  against  this  adamantine  wall  of  obstacles. 
A  few  years  will  witness  their  humiliating  discomfiture  !  " 

It  were  a  school  for  a  painter  of  that  period  whose  particular 
genius  portrayed  girlhood  and  womanhood,  to  have  studied  the 
blu.hing,  coquettish,  sympathetic  enthusiasm  of  the  fair  faces 
turned  toward  the  pulpit  at  that  moment. 

The  Rev.  Luther  closed  by  admonishing  his  hearers  to  study 
more  critically  the  pure  and  noble  Southern  traits ;  to  refrain  from 
discussion  which  dangerously  stirred  chivalric  blood  ;  and  above 
all,  to  assist  in  returning  to  Africa  the  free  blacks  about  them ; 
thus  washing  the  fair  escutcheon  of  our  American  Freedom  from 
the  dark  stain  of  a  monstrous  degradation.  " 

Signs  of  ardent  approval  were  conspicuous  in  the  congregation. 

Rev.  Mr.  Harstburg,  the  pastor,  felt  forced  to  raise  his  voice  in 
unison  with  the  church.  He  had  clearer  perceptions  of  the  char- 
acter of  our  Creator  than  he  had  found  in  the  books.  His  course 
of  thought  was  more  independent  than  that  of  his  colleagues.  But 
he  loved  quiet,  and  avoided  controversy.  He  had,  in  visits  to 
Boston,  seen  and  read  the  "Liberator,  "  edited  by  the  pioneer  aboli- 
tionist, Garrison.  Its  denunciations  fell  hke  hail-stones  on  the 
green  paths  his  feet  loved  to  travel.  Its  keen  truths  haunted  his 
meditations,  and  came  nigh  freeing  him  from  the  enthrallment  of 
bigotry,  which  the  church  had  woven  about  him.  But  he  wilfully 
closed  hiS'.eyes,  and  stifled  his  conscience  by  his  love  of  ease,  and 
a  fixed  salary.  He  therefore  advised  his  people  to  avoid  the  col- 
umns of  that  "inflammatory  "  sheet,  the  Liberator, —  if,  by  chance,  it 
fell  in  their  way  to  turn  from  it;  as  it  could  but  forment  the  unhal- 
lowed passions  of  the  reader. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  l8l 

Permission  was  granted  to  any  one  in  the  body  of  the  church  to 
join  the  crusade  against  agitation.  Mr.  Buddington,  in  his  fur-lined 
coat,  for  one,  believed  the  Constitution  was  founded  on  Moses  and 
the  Prophets  ;  and  urged  subscriptions  to  the  African  Repository. 
He  walked  up  to  the  altar,  and  laid  down  one  hundred  dollars  for 
the  Colonization  Society  j  proposing  to  remain,  taking  names,  and 
money. 

Among  the  throng,  the  mill-owner's  son,  who  had  driven  up  from 
Alderbank  in  his  dashing  turnout,  to  have  one  more  look  at  Lucy 
Clarendon,  before  her  departure,  walked  up  with  money,  and  name. 
Prudence  White,  Patience  Leving,  and  Charity  West  contributed 
their  mites  for  the  general  enlightenment  The  collections  and 
subscriptions  were  extensive.  Under  the  auspices  of  their  Southern 
visitor  and  the  clergy,  the  "  nigger  question  "  was  to  be  prayerfully, 
and  scientifically  solved. 

The  benediction  closed  the  interesting  exercises  at  a  late  hour. 
In  the  orange  glow  of  a  winter  sunset,  the  numerous  sleighs  wound 
away  from  the  green  door,  over  hill,  and  out  of  sight,  in  a  long 
procession.  For  this  procession,  awaited  a  welcome,  a  feast,  a 
revel.  Esquire  Buddington's  feet  had  been  placed  upon  the  rock 
Christ  Jesus, —  and  this  was  his  first  social  recognition  of  the  clergy, 
the  church,  and  its  membership. 

How  his  spacious  house  twinkled  among  the  snows,  that  night ! 
It  outshone  the  stars !  What  noble  fires  roared  on  every  hearth  ! 
How  they  crackled,  and  hissed  !  What  queer,  fantastic,  mocking 
silhouettes  on  the  walls,  the  flames  made,  of  the  strange  figures,  and 
faces  !  The  long  tables  smoked  with  the  fraternal  hospitality  of 
the  rich  convent.  Savory  clouds  floated  to  the  upper  rooms,  among 
trifling  girls,  and  hopeful  mothers.  Mr.  Steele  remarked  to  Lucy, 
that  'Squire  Buddington's  table  matched  the  luxury  of  a  Southern- 
er's entertainment. 

After  supper,  around  the  fires  in  various  rooms,  conversation 
was  sweet.  When  the  flagons  of  hot  flip,  and  quaint  tumblers  of 
nutmeg  spiced  sling  had  circulated,  converse  grew  sv/eeter  still. 
They  fell  to  rehearsing  the  doings  of  the  Lord.  There  was  no  God 
like  their  God  —  none  at  all  in  all  the  lands!  glorious,  girding  on 
his  sword,  filling  his  quiver  with  arrows !  going  from  conquering  to 
conquer  ;  till  He  shall  put  all  things  under  his  feet  1 


l82  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Eleven  o'clock  was  fixed  for  the  final  separation  of  these  revival 
laborers.  No  one  presentwould  infringe  upon  the  Sabbath.  Holy- 
time  would  begin  at  twelve.  Melting  adieus  closed  the  social  fes- 
tivities. The  ghost  of  revival  week  floated  away,  among  the  spec- 
tres of  things  tliat  were. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

AFTER  Ralph  Haywood's  arrival  from  France,  he  made  many 
appointments  to  visit  Vaucluse  ;  but  as  often  as  March  pre- 
pared for  the  journey  to  the  ancestral  domain,  the  idle  postpone- 
ment of  his  master  changed  his  hopes  of  an  early  meeting  with  his 
beloved  Flora,  into  the  gloom  of  disappointment.  At  length  the 
day  for  the  union  of  the  two  powerful  houses  of  Haywood  and 
Mowndes  having  been  settled,  Ralph's  presence  at  the  paternal 
plantation  mansion  was  deemed  imperative,  even  by  its  indolent 
owner. 

March  took  his  seat  on  the  family  carriage,  by  the  coachman, 
with  happiest  anticipation.  He  v;ould  fold  his  long-absent  wife  to 
his  breast  once  more  —  he  would  see  her  gentle  eyes  kindle  at  his 
approach.  He  should  hear  her  sw^eet  words  of  endearment ;  and 
feel  himself  sufficiently  rewarded  for  entering  again  voluntarily  into 
bondage.  He  repeated  to  himself  the  well-remembered  passages 
of  her  letters  which  had  borne  her  faithful  love  across  the  sea.  In 
memory  he  saw  the  neat  cabin  as  he  left  it  long  j^ears  ago, —  he 
felt  again  her  arms  about  his  neck,  and  heard  again  her  sobbing 
farewell.     A  joyful  welcome  was  to  banisJi  a  grievous  absence. 

His  attentions  to  his  master  were  cheerful  and  unremitting. 
Ralph  even,  roused  from  his  lethargy,  says, — 

"March,  boy,  what's  the  matter  ?  Your  voice  melts  on  this  blue 
air  ;  and  your  black  face  has  lost  the  sulkiness  of  a  few  years  past. 
Don't  become  an  angel  too  soon  !  I  swear  I  should  be  lost 
without  the  services  of  my  slave !  " 

"  We  are  near  the  avenue  now,  master  ; "  he  replied  cheerfully. 

"  Near  the  devil  !  Curse  the  avenue  of  live  oaks  !  It  leads  into 
a  trap  !     The   open   sky,   the  wild  woods  and  a  pack  of  hounds  is 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  1 83 

better  !  "  Yet  the  polished  carriage  roof  was  brushed  by  their  brood 
ing  branches,  and  a  heavy  drapery  of  long  gray  moss  curtained  the 
green  arch  under  which  they  slowly  entered. 

Up  this  magnificent  live-oak  avenue  the  horses  walked  ;  the  new 
master  surveyed  his  patrimony  from  the  carriage  windows.  A 
frown  clouded  his  face,  when  he  beheld  everywhere  the  neglect 
portrayed  by  his  Parisian  dreams.  It  was  near  sunset  —  one  of 
those  gorgeous  sunsets  of  Southern  climes  j  when  the  very  air  is 
golden. 

The  servants  had  been  apprised  of  Ralph,s  coming.  Beds  had 
been  aired  and  freshly  made.  Windows  and  doors  were  thrown 
open,  and  the  aroma  of  the  elaborate  cuisine  floated  out  to  gladden 
the  young  pseudo  lord.  The  house-servanss  came  out  in  a  body, 
led  by  the  white-aproned  butler, —  the  field-hands  gathered  on  the 
opposite  side  to  greet  their  young  master  with  profoundest  bows 
and  courtesies, —  to  offer  smiles  and  greetings,  propitiatory  to  the 
evil  genius  that  ruled  his  moods  and  deeds  ;  as  some  bird  of  the  air 
bad  whispered  them. 

"  Glad  ter  see  Massa  Ralph,"  was  humbly  offered  on  every  hand. 
"  Do  all  we  kin  for  yonng  massa." 

March  opened  the  carriage  door  with  some  parade,  and  ran  his 
eyes  eagerly  among  the  crowd.  Ralph  alighted,  and  with  haughty 
pride  looked  upon  his  vassals  who  stood  with  bared  heads,  bat- 
tered hats  in  hand  and  bowing  with  abject  homage. 

"Splendid!  tall!  hansum!  gran'!  fine!"  ran  round  the  admir- 
ing circle  ;  accompanied  with  servile  bows,  and  courtesies,  and 
another  flash  of  white  teeth. 

^  "  By  George  !  a  good  looking  gang  !"  vouchsafed  Ralph  !  raising 
his  hat  from  his  head  and  saluting. 

"  Rice  and  cotton  should  grow  here  !  " 

"  A  mighty  smart  chance,  sir  !  "  bowed  the  overseer. 

"  March  ! "  continued  the  new  master,  "  deliver  the  tobacco  to  the 
overseer.  There's  a  ration  for  each, —  and  overseer,  bring  out  the 
v\^hisky  !  serve  them  a  ration  all  round  to  drink  the  master's  health. 
Order  the  dinner  March,  and  follow  me  !  " 

He  strode  into  the  verandah,  under  his  own  roof,  and  to  his  own 
chamber ;  better  satisfied  with  his  reception  than  he  had  dreamed. 

March  attended  to  the  master's  dinner  toilet  ;  drew  on  his  own 


184  WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

official  white  gloves ;  followed  him  down  to  the  dining-room,  and 
waited  at  the  back  of  his  chair.  With  unusual  skill,  he  managed 
Ralph's  distastes  and  relishes  :  thus  keeping  at  bay  the  usual  impe- 
rious oath  and  fretful  curse. 

After  a  long  sitting,  with  generous  draughts  of  his  father's  wine, 
which  he  declared  had  grown  smoother,  and  more  delectable  dur- 
ing his  absence,  he  rose  saying, — 

"  I  am  going  to  the  piazza."  March  followed  with  a  lounging 
chair  ;  then  hurried  away  for  his  accustomed  cigars.  A  small  se- 
lection of  the  silver  had  been  taken  from  the  vaults  of  the  bank  in 
Charleston,  where  it  had  been  deposited  for  safety,  and  sent  up  by 
his  factors.  From  this,  March  took  a  waiter  of  the  old  family  sil- 
ver—  placed  upon  it  all  Ralph's  Parisian  paraphernalia  of  smok- 
ing ;  and  placed  it  upon  a  small  table  at  his  elbow.  As  he  passed 
the  lighted  match  to  his  master,  he  heard  the  welcome  words, — 

"  Go  now,  March  —  find  your  wife.  She  is  modest  about  intrud- 
ing upon  your  attention  before  the  new  master.  Go,  now.  Come 
back  in  the  morning.  My  father's  old  servant  will  sleep  on  the 
floor  by  me.  He  will  attend  to  my  wants.  Go,  greet  your  pretty 
wife.     A  long  absence  you  have  had  of  it." 

March  bent  low,  and  uttered  his  thanks  with  visible  emotions  of 
gratitude  and  pleasure  ;  he  turned  away  to  seek  his  own  packages, 
which  he  had  secretly  placed  in  the  coachman's  box  in  Charleston, 
with  articles  for  the  comfort  and  luxury  of  his  master.  They  had 
all  come  across  the  sea,  from  the  gay  Paris  that  furnished  Ralph's 
costly  gifts  to  Gracie  Mowndes.  When  alone,  he  removed  a 
wrapper. 

"  How  this  will  please  the  little  beauty,"  thought  March, —  and 
the  thought  blossomed  into  lively  smiles  upon  his  lips,  which  parted 
over  his  white  teeth,  in  the  anticipated  joy.  "How  she  loves  blue  ! 
and  this  is  blue  silk  —  glossy  as  any  other." 

He  unrolled  it,  held  it  to  the  dying  sunset  light 

"  Ah,  my  Flora  in  that  dress  will  tempt  the  white  bloods.  But  I 
have  nothing  to  fear.  She  has  always  been  the  same  faithful  one 
to  me.  My  father  !  yes,  my  father,  and  Ralph's  father  ;  my  proud 
white  father  gave  her  to  me  forever.  He  gave  me  to  Ralph,  who 
very  well  knows  I  am  his  brother  ;  that  his  promise  to  me  con- 
cerning^  my  darling  wife  Flora,  should   be  kept   sacred  ;  and   that 


WHITE   MAY,   AND      BLACK  JUNE.  185 

I,  his  son,  might  gather  into  my  narrow  slave  life  its  few  stinted 
pleasures." 

He  folded  the  Paris  silk  back  into  its  envelope,  lifted  a  pink 
gauze  dress,  a  white  shawl,  earings  and  necklace  of  imitation  pearls* 
Then  his  brow  contracted  as  he  held  the  pretty  baubles  in  his 
hand.  Imitation,  thought  he,  forever  —  imitation  !  I  could  have 
bought  some  pearls  for  Flora, —  I  had  money  for  a  few  real  pearls. 
Flora  deserves  them  ;  put  I  dared  not.  The  proud  blue  blood  of 
master's  bride,  Grace  Mowndes,  would  have  boiled  and  bubbled  in 
wrath  against  my  little  wife,  that  she  should  presume  to  equality 
with  her  mistress.  "  Aha  !  ha  !  ha  !  "  in  a  light,  melodious  laugh, 
escaped  on  the  evening  air.  Flora  is  of  blue-blood  parentage. 
That  test  of  rank  runs  in  her  veins.  I  remember  the  time  old  mas- 
ter's white  wife  would  have  him  buy  the  mother  and  child  from 
Colonel  Sachuse  ;  and  how  all  we  house-servants  saw  Colonel  Sa- 
chuse's  face  in  the  gay  little  Flora.     He  was  her  father  !  " 

During  this  soliloquy,  his  hands  were  busy  unrolling,  and  rolling 
again  bright  ribbons,  embroidered  handkerchiefs,  and  tiny  gloves. 
He  took  from  one  package  a  pair  of  blue  slippers  ;  the  accompani- 
ment of  the  blue  silk  dress.     He  rested  one  upon  each  palm. 

"  Silver  buckles.  Number  two.  Mistress  Grace  must  never  see 
these.  Her  jealous  rage  would  trample  these  under  her  feet,  with 
the  pearls.  Then  she  would  sell  my  wife  on  the  auction  block,  as 
heartlessly  as  she  sold  her  sister  Zog.  Everybody  knows  that,  in 
Charleston.  Flora  shall  wear  these,  when  the  mistress  is  away. 
She  shall  wear  them  for  my  eyes  to  see !  and  they  shall  not  sell  my 
Flora.  It  was  the  command  of  the  father  of  Ralph  and  me,  that 
Flora  should  not  be  sold." 

He  went  on  arranging  the  packages  in  a  pretty  French  basket, 
bought  for  her  also.  "  She  has  not  been  to  see  me  ;  though  she 
knows  I  have  come.  She  will  not  show  herself  to  Ralph.  Will  he 
dare  to  take  her  from  me,  and  make  her  his  wife  ?  " 

An  agonized  thought  shot  through  his  heart  like  a  barbed  arrow. 
"Heaven  knows  what  he  will  do !  These  masters  take  to  them- 
selves any  and  every  one  they  choose  I  " 

His  white  teeth  ground  the  maddening  thoughts  between  them  ; 
and  a  glittering  dagger-light  flashed  from  the  calm  of  his  hitherto 
quiet   eyes.      With  a  basket  on  his    arm,  containing  the  precious 


1 86  WHITE   MAY,   AND    CLACK  JUNE. 

gifts,  he  passed  out  west  of  the  mansion,  down,  the  road  to  the 
quarters  ;  under  the  sweet  gums,  now  ahnost  leafless ;  past  the 
shining  green  of  magnolias,  and  copses  of  sweet  bay ;  into  the 
skirt  of  the  piny  woods  standing  darkly  against  the  yellow  evening 
sky.  Just  in  front  of  him  was  his  own  cabin,  where  he  left  his 
chiefest  treasure.  He  advanced  rapidly  to  the  open  door.  A 
brawny  black  woman,  a  field  hand,  wearing  her  coarse,  short  work- 
ing gown,  bare  armed,  and  turbaned  with  a  scant  piece  of  her  rude 
dress,  met  him  at  the  door.  Four  little  toddling,  half-clad  children 
clung  around  her  bare  feet,  to  see  the  nice  gentleman  at  their 
door. 

*'  Where  is  my  Flora?"  questioned  March  sharply. 

*'You'  Flora .'*  Dunno,  mister.  I  ain't  been  raise  here;"  and 
in  determined  reticence,  she  leaned  her  shoulder  against  the  door- 
post. "  I  bin  raise  in  Georgy  ;  b'long  to  de  massa  Leshyur.  He 
die  — de  hul  gang  sell  in  Charleston  —  agent  buy  we  —  tote  we  up 
here.     Dunno,  mister.  " 

"  Oh !  you  know  more  than  you  are  going  to  tell,  till  you  find 
whether  you  are  safe  or  not.  Slaves  never  tell  what  they  know  to 
strangers.  Mv  name  is  March.  I  am  Flora's  husband  —  been 
away  with  your  master  several  years.  I  am  a  slave  as  much  as  you 
are.  Tell  me  about  Flora.  Is  my  little,  loving  wife  dead,  or  sold  ? 
Tell  me  !  for  you  know  ;  "  and  with  a  groan,  he  dropped,  sobbing, 
upon  the  lower  step  of  the  short  flight  of  stairs  leading  up  to  the 
floor. 

The  woman  sat  down  upon  the  lower  step,  driving  away  her 
chattering  children,  to  play  in  the  woods. 

"You  is  March!  I  heah  'bout  March.  Well  den,  I  spec  de 
same  ting  happen  she,  dat  happen  all  we  slabe.  I  heah  March 
wife  sole,  and  dis  room  look  so  neat  when  I  come,  like  white  lady 
room.  " 

The  French  basket  rolled  off  the  unconscious  arm  to  the  ground. 
March  bowed  his  head  over  wringing  hands,  and  groaned. 

"  How  long  since  she  was  here?  "  he  asked  huskily.  "  Give  me 
a  drink  of  water  !  " 

"Plant  rice  tree  time  sence  I'se  come ;  an'  I  nebber  seen  her  !  " 
replied  the  woman,  with  the  callousness  of  despair  for  herself,  and 
all  in  her  condition. 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  187 

"  Is  old  Prudy  here  yet  ?  " 

"Ole  Prudy?  yes;  Prudy  here;  she  tell  me  'bout  Flora;  she 
know ;  Prudy  tell  youse  all.     Go  see  Prudy ;  lib  right  ober  dare." 

March  took  up  the  basket,  and  turned  from  Flora's  cabin,  with- 
out a  look  within.  The  moon  sailed  brightly  among  the  tops  of 
the  pines. 

"  Just  as  it  used  to  look  when  Flora  and  I  walked  here.  My 
heart  must  break ;  and  I've  a  heart  as  tender  as  Ralph's.  My 
Savior  !  had  he  a  hand  in  this?"  He  dropped  upon  the  steps  of 
the  cabin  he  sought,  and  called,  Prudy. 

"Who  dat?"  returned  a  broken  voice  within.  "Who  voice  be 
dat  ?  "     She  shuffled  to  the  door. 

"  I  am  March,  Prudy.     Tell  me  where  is  my  Flora. 

'*Lor  a  me,  March, —  dat  you?  Didn'  Marse Ralph  tell  ye  Flora 
done  sole  ? " 

"  No,  no  Prudy ;  he  dont  know  it  himself.  He  sent  me  down  to 
see  her." 

She  reached  over,  took  him  by  the  arm  and  said  in  a  low  pity- 
ing tone, — 

"  Come  in,  shet  de  doo',  got  lightwood  fire."  She  drew  him  in, 
to  repeat  the  story  safely — for  Flora  had  told  her  all. 

"  Take  dis  same  chair  ole  marse  will,  to  Prudy." 

She  brightened  the  flame  by  another  piece  of  lightwood,  and  sat 
down  on  the  bottom  of  a  broken  piggin  herself. 

"  Now  Prudy  speak  soft.  You  listen.  Shutters  all  tight.  Look 
heah.  Hush  weepin'.  Weepin'  wont  bring  nobody  back.  Hush  ! 
Young  marse  know  ebry  bit  'bout  dis.  He  sen  you  down  heah 
pu'pose.  Dese  debbel  marsers.  Dey  sell  ebry  body;  wife,  chil- 
der  an*  dere  own  childer ;  deii  look  white  like  angels.  Marse  Ralph 
lub  Flora  hisself — vvant  her  for  he  wife.  He  mad  an'  sell  her. 
March,  youse  fool.  W^hat  for  you  come  back  from  France  ?  What 
for  you  be  slabe  gin  ?  " 

"  I  was  willing  to  be  a  slave  forever  with  Flora ;  and  master  gave 
me  a  letter  from  her  the  very  week  we  left  Paris."  groaned  March. 
"In  this  letter  she  said  she  waited  for  me,  and  begged  me  to 
hasten  back  to  her  faithful  love." 

"  Dat  very  debbel  Ralph  write  de  letters  hisself,  to  bring  you 
back  to  Carliny.     She  sole  the  nex'  year  you  went  way   to   France. 


l88  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

She  wait  for  you  de  oder  side,  where  Jurdan  roll.  Marse  Ralph 
tell  ye  'bout  Flora  fait'ful  lub.  No  slabe  woman  ken  hab  fait'tul 
lub.  She  hab  one  husban'  she  lub.  Marse  come  long,  take  her 
'way  —  sell  de  husban'  or  someting — den  make  her  take  nudder 
husban'.  De  white  men's  got  no  fait'ful  lub  ;  an'  dey  wont  let  no 
somebody  else  hab  fait'ful  lub." 

"  Did  this  overseer  sell  my  Flora?"  sobbed  March. 

"  No,  de  oberseer  dat  youse  know,  sell  her  —  obcose.  Marse 
Ralph  give  de  order — an' after  dat  he  ship  oberseer  hisself  —  so 
he  neber  tell.  Flora  tell  me  dat  same  oberseer  try  to  make  her 
him  wife.  He  whip  her,  shet  her  up.  Flora  say  she  die  fust ;  den 
he  gib  it  up." 

'•  How  did  they  take  her  away,  Prudy  t    Were  they  cruel  to  her  ?  " 

"  No  matter  'bout  dat,  Match,  she  gone  ;  dat  nuff." 

"  Prudy  !  "  he  gasped,  "  tell  me  the  whole  —  I  must  know  !  Did 
they  put  handcuffs  on  her  tender  wrists  .?" 

"  What  make  you  ask  ?  "  she  hesitated  "  True  March,  dey 
did.  She  cry  an'  struggle — say  dont  do  dat  —  I'll  go  myself. 
But  de  oberseer  wid  de  debbel's  face  say,  *  put  'em  on.'  Den  I  see 
de  iron  red  wid  her  blood.  Hush  March.  Somebody  heah.  Gib 
it  up  to  de  good  Lord.  Dat  young  marse  Ralph  cut  you  heart  out. 
he  fin'  you  blood.     Take  care." 

"  Prudy,  do  you  call  the  Lord  good,  when  He  has  the  power  and 
don't  stop  these  things  .^  " 

"I  spects  Him  good.  I  spects  Him  come  down  heah,  and  walk 
'bout  dese  plantation  sometime.     I  spects  Him  comin'." 

"Which  way  did  they  take  Flora  to  the  boat  ? " 

"  Down  de  av'nue  youse  come  up,  under  the  libe-oak.  Now  heah 
de  message.     Prudy  keep  ebry  word  for  you." 

"  One  night,  after  de  fust  fowl  crow,  Flora  come  to  me  in  dat  ole 
bed  dare,  she  kneel  down  and  say.  'Prudy,  listen.  If  dey  kill  me 
or  sell  me  'way,  tell  my  dear  March  I  lub  him  allers.  Tell  him  .1 
nebber  no  man  wife  but  him.  My  heart  is  brake.  Oberseer  say  I 
go  fur  as  win'  an'  water  can  carry  me.  Tell  March  I  leave  my 
kisses  in  de  air  in  dese  piny  wood  for  him.  March  an'  me  will 
nebber  meet  again,  till  we  go  up  to  de  Trone  ob  God,'  Den  she 
cry  and  faint  'way.  Hush  March.  Dont  'venge  on  marse.  Gib 
it  up  to  de  Lord." 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  iSg 

Suppressed  anguish,  and  falling  tears  were  her  only  reply.  At 
length  he  spoke, — 

"Prudy,  will  you  go  to  the  gardener  and  bring  me  a  spade?  I 
will  return  it  to  you  before  break  of  day." 

"  What  for  you  want  spade  ?"  she  quickly  asked. 

"  To  bury  my  wrongs,  and  revenge,  Prudy." 

"  Den  I  bring  it." 

When  she  returned  and  gave  it  into  his  hand,  she  said, — 

"Go  March,  down  to  the  old  palmetto  tree,  where  you  an'  Flora 
use  to  pull  de  yeller  jessmine.  Flora  pray  for  you  dere  de  las' 
time.  Go  down  dere.  De  Lord  waits  for  youse  dere,  de  Lord  wid 
de  shinin'  robe."  She  closed  the  door  after  him.  In  the  flooding 
moonlight,  with  the  French  basket  and  spade,  he  staggered  over 
the  rough  cotton  field,  under  live  oaks,  past  magnolias  and  clumps 
of  laurel,  through  a  fallow  field  waist-deep  with  withered  grass, 
into  the  shadowy  woods  to  the  old  palmetto,  spreading  out  its  huge 
fringed  fans,  aud  hiding  its  ugliness  in  the  burrowed  graces  of  a 
luxuriant  vine.  The  spirit  of  death  seemed  to  have  preceded  him, 
even  here. 

"  Desolate,  like  me  !  "  murmured  March.  He  sat  upon  the 
same  fallen  log  where  Flora  had  so  often  rested,  while  he  pulled 
the  fragrant  yellow  flowers  for  her  expectant  hands.  He  threw 
himself  upon  the  dried  grass,  and  made  a  rapid  retrospect  of  his 
past  life.  He  lived  over  again  its  rare  passages  of  sweetness,  and 
came  back  to  the  bitter  present.  He  arose  with  suppressed 
groans ;  took  the  spade,  and  carefully  raising  the  brown  grass  turf, 
dug  underneath  a  small,  deep  grave ;  within,  he  placed  the  basket, 
containing  all  the  beautiful  foreign  gifts  to  his  beloved  Flora. 
The  dresses,  the  pearls,  the  ribbons,  the  tiny  slippers,  and  the  em- 
broideries. Over  this  he  knelt,  and  dropped  above  them  his 
streaming  tears,  and  a  prayer  to  be  kept  from  executing  the  wild 
promptings  of  revenge,  which  seemed  to  rend  his  soul  asunder. 
His  weak,  trembling  hands  threw  back  the  earth,  replaced  the  turf, 
and  carefully  added  to  the  ground  an  undisturbed  aspect  j  yet,  for- 
ever marked  to  his  own  eye. 

As  he  rose  from  his  labor,  empty-handed  and  broken-hearted, 
the  song  of  a  mocking  bird  poured  forth  from  the  topmost  sprig  of 
the  jasmine,  in  the  old  palmetto.    "  Perhaps  God  has  spoken  to  m.e 


190  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

thus,"  thought  March  j  "  or,  is  it  the  spirit  of  my  lost  Flora?  It  has 
flown.  Farewell  to  all  I  love,  or  hope  for  on  earth."  He  turned 
away  with  the  spade,  passed  through  the  shadows  of  familiar  trees, 
across  the  fields  to  Prudy's  door.  She  was  still  hovering  over  the 
fire.  She  offered  March  an  old  blanket  to  spread  upon  the  floor 
till  morning. 

"I  cannot  sleep.  Let  me  rest  awhile  in  this  chair  ;  "  into  which 
he  s^nk  in  a  state  of  exhausted  despair.  Prudy  resumed  her  pig- 
gin,  and  lighted  her  clay  pipe.  Laying  on  more  lightwood,  she 
turned  to  memories  of  Flora,  and  related  her  grief  and  loneliness, 
after  March  left  America ;  told  how  the  dear  girl  mourned  over 
the  cruelties  of  bondage,  where  all  that  was  allowed  the  poor  slave 
in  common  with  the  free,  was  the  tender  upspringing  of  human  . 
attachment,  but  that  as  soon  as  it  put  forth  its  vitality  in  tender 
growth,  the  owner  of  the  being  cut  it  down  with  the  same  noncha- 
lance he  would  reap  the  rice-field. 

Relapsing  into  silence  for  aw^hile,  the  old  woman  rose  to  her  feet 
with  an  exclamatory, — 

"  Lor  a  me  !  I  done  forgot."  She  went  to  her  box,  answering 
for  a  trunk,  and  took  therefrom  a  small  paper  box,  securely  tied  by 
a  fragment  of  blue  ribbon.  She  returned  to  the  piggin,  saying  in 
a  consolitary  voice,  "  Dare,  March,  open  dat.  Flora  left  it  for 
youse." 

He  raised  the  box  to  his  lips,  and  poured  forth  tears  over  it; 
loosed  the  knot  his  wife's  own  fingers  had  tied,  and  found  within 
two  of  her  long,  black,  silky  curls.  He  lifted  them.  Ring  after 
ring  dropped  down  in  their  native  twining  grace,  which  could  not 
be  surpassed.  Both  looked  at  them  without  words  ;  but  the  cabin 
was  filled  with  low,  heart-rending  moans. 

Prudy  laid  down  her  pipe,  and  quietly  took  the  curls  from  INIarch, 
replaced  them  in  the  box,  wound  the  blue  ribbon  about  it,  drew  up 
a  coarse  bench  by  him,  and  set  it  there.     It  was  near  morning. 

"  I  must  go,  Prudy,  to  dress  that  man  ;  that  master  ;  that  brother 
of  mine  by  the  same  father !  that  murderer  of  my  darling  wife  ! 
that  lying  villain  !  that  deliberate  assassin  !  Prudy,  pray  for  me, 
lest  I  plunge  his  own  bowie  knife  to  its  true  home,  and  warm  it  in 
his  life's  blood." 

"J'rudy  pray  now.     Kneel  down  heah,  March,  with  Prudy." 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  I91 

"No,  I  can't  pray.  The  good  Lord  offered  me  freedom  and 
manhood  once  in  glorious  France ;  but  I  threw  the  great  offer  in 
His  face,  and  came  back  to  these  plains  and  swamps,  fouler  with 
murderous  deeds  than  with  their  deathly  miasma.  I  came  back  to 
these  chains,  whips  and  miseries." 
•'Pray,  March.     De  Lord  heah." 

"  Prudy,  how  can  I  pray .''  He  may  hear  you ;  not  me." 
"  Pray,  March,"  she  repeated.  "  Kneel  on  de  blanket,  an'  take 
dem  blessed  curl  in  youse  han'."  She  pulled  at  his  coat.  "Pray 
March!  kneel  down!  You's  got  de  blue  blood,  in  ye!  Kneel, 
March!  you's  got  de  debble  blue  blood!  You's  half  old  marse  I 
You  han'  kin  hole  de  dagger,  like  him.  You  han'  kin  fire  de  pis- 
tol, an'  take  de  aim  like  him.  'Member,  yon  half  old  marse! 
Kneel,  boy,  kneel !  " 

He  did  kneel  in  view  of  his  danger.  Old  Prudy  raised  both  her 
bony  hands. 

"Will  degood  Lord  heah?  Will  de  bressed  Sabior  listen  to  Him 
chile.-*  See  !  him  bow  down  !  Him  ask  him  Fader  in  Heaben  to 
sabe  him  from  vengin'  him  belubed  wife,  sole  'way.  Him  be  de 
Lord's  chile.  Him  ask  to  hab  him  own  strong  fiery  right  han'  hold 
in  de  holler  ob  de  Heabenly  Fader  han',  so  dat  he  do  no  murder. 
Bressed  Sabior !  walk  close  by  de  side  ob  dis  poor  boy,  troo  de 
gret  darkness  ob  him  sorrow.  Put  dy  pure  white  arm  roun'  him, 
an'  walk  wid  him.  Den,  oh  my  Sabior !  he  will  lib  to  praise  Dy 
holy  name." 

An  agonized  groan,  and  the  dropping  of  her  uplifted  palms, 
closed  the  prayer. 

March,  touched  by  the  pathos,  trust  and  prophetic  fear  of  his  old 
friend,  grew  softened.  A  strong  peace  stole  over  his  thoughts, 
Prudy  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm  at  the  door. 

"  Will  ye  strike  now,  boy  ? "    she   whispered.     "  Promise    afore 
youse  go." 
"  No,  Prudy." 

"  Will  ye  Jlre  de  pistol  hehirC  de  sweet  hay  hush  1  Promise  afore 
youse  go." 

"  No,  Prud3\     I'll  be  an  obedient  slave." 

When  March  entered  his  master's  room,  he  found  him  still  in 
bed.     He  called  out, — 


192  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

"  Halloo,  March  !  so  early  ?     Was  Flora  glad  to  see  you  ?  " 

Contrary  to  the  custom  of  slaves,  he  gazed  steadily  into  the  face 
of  Ralph ;  and  saw  there  the  sly  demon  of  triumph,  leap  to  his 
accursed  eyes.  Had  he  obeyed  the  impulses  of  his  nature,  he 
would  at  once  have  sprung  forward  to  the  bedside  and  throttled  the 
questioner,  till  he  had  acknowledged  his  crime  and  begged  his 
mercy.  Old  Prudy's  prayer  still  sounded  in  his  ear;  and  he 
answered  respectfully, — 

"  I  have  not  seen  her,  sir." 

"  Why  not,  boy  ?  " 

"  She  was  sold,  sir,  years  ago." 

"That  must  have  been  a  cruel  mistake  of  somebody's,  by  Jupi- 
ter !  When  was  she  sold  ?  Dress  me.  How  is  Greylock  ?  Have 
you  looked  into  the  stables  this  morning  ?  " 

'•  Greylock  is  well,  sir." 

"  Wait  the  dressing.  Go  down  and  order  old  Job,  the  hunter,  to 
get  dogs  and  horses  ready  for  an  early  chase.  Order  the  butler  to 
lay  an  early  breakfast.  You  appear  deucedly  heavy-eyed  ;  better 
get  a  livelier  spirit  into  your  feet,  boy." 

March  gave  the  orders  with  a  ready  obedience, —  dressed  his 
master  quickly  in  his  hunting  suit,  and  waited  at  the  back  of  his 
chair  with  his  usual  docility.  He  had  the  care  of  his  master's  pis- 
tols and  guns  ;  and  in  the  hunt  rode  after  him,  "How  easy  a  mat- 
ter," said  he  to  himself  "  would  it  be  for  me  to  pull  a  trigger  with 
another  aim,  when  others  are  firing  at  the  deer,  and  the  horses  are 
running."     Yet  he  mounted  and  rode  away  unarmed. 

At  night,  old  Job  brought  back  a  trophy  of  the  day's  chase,  in 
the  shape  of  a  fine  antlered  buck.  On  the  return  of  the  master,  he 
met  the  force  of  carpenters  and  painters  ordered  at  Charleston. 
Festivities  and  gay  revels  with  the  neighboring  gentry  were  in 
order.  Field-hands  and  house-servants  met  young  marse  with 
bows,  courtesies  and  flattering  praises.  Gentlemen,  whose  families 
boasted  the  purest  blood  in  the  Union,  hovered  around  Ralph ;  ate 
boisterous  dinners,  drank  his  father's  wine,  toasted  him  hilariously, 
toasted  each  other,  toasted  Calhoun  and  his  hobbies,  toasted  their 
royal  State  and  its  royal  power.  This  was  repeated  at  the  neigh- 
boring plantations,  where  the  new  master  was  made  to  feel  his  im- 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  1 93 

portance  on  the  roll  of  interpreters  and  supporters  of  the  Federal 
Constitution. 

March  hid  his  sorrows  and  festering  wrongs,  as  best  he  might, — 
abating  not  a  whit  of  the  subserviency  due  to  his  brother, —  yet  his 
manner  was  grave,  thoughtful  and  patient.  This  carriage  was  not 
pleasing  to  Mr.  Haywood.  There  must  be  no  "  Death's  Heads  " 
about  his  board  ;  no  hidden  skeletons  to  mar  his  rosy  dreams.  He 
said  one  day  to  March, — 

"  Here  you  Saturnine  gloom  I  Take  a  word  of  warning  ;  put  away 
your  blue  devils  or  I  will  offer  my  assistance.  Sunlight,  gayety  and 
the  graces  must  be  the  attendants  of  my  approaching  nuptials." 

At  length  the  paternal  mansion  of  the  new  proprietor  was  reju- 
venated. The  ample  piazzas  of  two  stories,  and  its  tall  white 
chimnies  among  the  oaks  and  magnolias  and  leafless  sycamores 
vied  with  its  vicinal  houses.  Rose  bowers,  trellises  and  grape- 
arbors  rose  on  every  side.  The  oval  flower  garden,  for  the  pleas- 
ure of  its  future  mistress,  was  guarded  from  vulgar  feet  by  a  low, 
vvhite,  scolloped  lace-work  fence.  The  gardener's  work  in  pruning, 
transplanting  and  laying  out  the  grounds,  went  on  with  the  work  of 
the  builders. 

Ralph  returned  to  the  city  and  took  with  him  his  father's  serv- 
ing man.  This  occasioned  no  surprise  to  March  j  as  he  knew  the 
few  wrecks  following  were  to  be  occupied  with  busy  preparations  for 
his  master's  marriage.  In  Charleston,  March  was  daily  dispatched 
with  notes  to  Ralph's  agents,  to  Grace  Mowndes,  to  the  furnitura 
dealers,  and  on  a  multiude  of  other  errands. 

Charlotte,  Ralph's  chambermaid,  bought  for  his  house  before  his 
arrival  from  France,  and  oE  whom  we  have  before  spoken,  was  also 
busy  with  the  new  furniture  of  the  rooms  ;  and  had  more  occasion 
to  mingle  with  the  other  house  servants, —  yet  they  all  remarked 
her  well-preserved  dignity  of  demeanor;  and  that  she  artfully 
avoided  familiarity  with  any.  She  glided  over  the  house  as  if  she 
were  the  mistress. 

"  Marse  put  dat  in  Lotty  head,"  whispered  Prince  Andrew  to 
Jane,  the  washer-woman.  "  She  no  better'n  me.  I  kiss  heaps  gals 
han'some  as  she  ;  but  I  no  kiss  her." 

"  Old  men  like  you  no  business  kissin'  the  girls.  You  is  a  old 
goose,  Andrew." 


194  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Prince  Andrew  shrugged  his  shoulders,  chuckled  in  his  fat  throat 
and  said  pompously, — 

•']\Iuss  do  what  de  white  mens  do,  Mistress  Jane." 

"  Mistress  Jane  says  old  men  are  silly  things,  white  or  colored," 
was   the   curt  reply  ;  and  he  walked  off  with  his  towel  and   waiter. 

"  Oh  !  my  ears  !  "  cried  Dick,  running  into  the  kitchen. 

" Wha's  matter.?  "  asked  the  cook. 

"  Queen  Charlotte  cuff  'em,  cause  I  tried  to  sport  wid  she  !  Marse 
needn't  git  marry  ober  agin  !  " 

One  day  when  Ralph  was  yielding  full  rein  to  his  Southern  tem- 
per, he  gave  several  orders  to  March  ;  among  them  a  note  to  the 
workhouse,  for  which  he  was  to  wait  an  answer.  He  was  to  attend 
to  this  note  last. 

March  ran  down  the  marble  steps,  crossed  the  long  walk,  and 
closed  the  iron  gate  after  him  with  unqualified  pleasure.  It  was 
one  of  those  bright  days,  when  Charleston  seemed  to  swim  in  a 
transparent  haze  ;  like  the  moss  in  a  milky  blue  agate  stone.  He 
was  glad  to  escape  from  the  irritation  at  the  house  ;  and  felt  his 
burdens  lightened  by  the  beauty  around  him. 

A  note  to  Ralph's  factors  took  him  down  East  Bay  street.  His 
eye  was  attracted  by  the  masts  and  spars  of  the  ships,  at  their 
moorings. 

He  leaned  against  an  awning  post,  and  reflected. 

"There  went  the  little  feet  of  my  Flora,  on  her  journey  of  Death  ! 
There  she  staggered  up  the  gangway  of  the  New  Orleans  vessel, 
with  her  bleeding  wrists  in  the  gnawing  hand-cuffs ;  her  tangled 
silken  curls  in  disorder  ;  and  her  dear  eyes  heavy  with  weeping. 
Down  that  misty  harbor  she  was  borne,  heart-breaking,  and  filled 
with  despair.  " 

The  beautiful  morning  became  dim ;  the  very  sun  in  the  heavens 
eclipsed.  Intense  anguish  still  wrought  upon  his  features  when  he 
arrived  at  Magazine  street;  but  he  presented  the  note  to  the  gate- 
keeper at  the  workhouse.  After  some  delay,  an  attendant  returned 
to  the  gate,  saying, — 

"  Come  this  way,  to  the  master. " 

March  followed,  and  found  him.self  entering  the  whipping-room. 
He  had  no  fear;  but  removed  his  hat,  and  offered  the  usual  salu- 
tation. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  1 95 

'*  Come  in,"  said  the  master  ;  "  and  close  the  door.  "  He  did 
so. 

"  Take  off  your  coat  and  vest.  " 

"  I  ?  sir  !  "  exclaimed  March,  with  horror. 

"  Yes  !  to  be  sure,  you !  yourself  !  Take  off  your  coat  and  vest ; 
and  strip  your  shirt  from  your  shoulders  !  " 

"For  what,  sir.?"  demanded  March  ;  drawing  back  to  the  door. 

"  You  know  well  why  clothing  is  removed  in  this  room !  you 
feigning  hypocrite  !     Off  with  them  !  " 

"  I  will  not  be  whipped,  sir. " 

A  coarse,  derisive  laugh  echoed  through  the  empty  room. 

"  Sunday,"  he  said  to  the  whipper,  a  tall,  stalwart  black,  with 
sleeves  rolled  to  his  elbows,  and  spattered  with  fresh  blood,  "  Sun- 
day, call  the  assistants,  Dan  and  Bill.  " 

At  the  same  time,  he  drew  a  pistol  from  his  pocket,  and  cocked 
it  deliberately,  saying, — 

"  Move,  and  you  are  a  dead  man  !  " 

Leaving  things  in  this  attitude,  let  us  survey  this  room,  in  which 
the  creeds,  sermons,  and  prayers  of  Charleston  culminated. 

As  its  type  cannot  be  found  in  ]\Ioses,  or  its  plan  in  the  Evan- 
gelists, it  must  rationally  be  conjectured  that  its  arrangements  for 
torturing  the  images  of  God  were  a  later  sublimation  of  a  more 
delicate  philanthropy  than  Moses  or  Christ  possessed. 

The  room  was  large  enough  to  allow  space  and  footing  for  the 
fearful  resistance  which  might  be  made  to  this  mode  of  moral  sua- 
sion. Its  walls  were  bare,  whitewashed,  and  bespattered  with 
human  blood.  In  the  centre  of  the  room,  a  post,  planted  in  the 
floor,  reached  the  ceiling.  At  its  top  was  a  pulley  for  drawing  up 
the  arms  of  the  victims;  the  wrists  being  previously  tied  together. 
At  the  foot  of  the  post  were  rings  for  the  confinement  of  the  feet. 
Around  the  room  hung  whips  of  various  inventions  ;  the  long  black 
snake,  the  shorter  cat-o'-ninetails,  with  multiplied  lashes,  and 
whips  with  wire  braided  into  the  ends  of  the  lash.  There  were 
also  long,  flat,  wooden  instruments,  called  paddles,  bored  with 
holes ;  so  that  the  human  flesh  under  its  blows,  was  puft'ed  into 
bruised  and  bloody  blisters,  healing  slowly.  A  dirty  cap  made 
from  carpet,  such  as  hangmen  use,  hung  beside  these  whips. 

The  floor,  which  was  frequently  washed  of  its  gore,  and  sanded, 


196  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

r 

had  been  recently  drenched,  and  the  sand  was  wet  upon  it,  but  a 
whipping  had  just  been  consummated,  and  a  drip  of  blood  diago- 
nally across  it  marked  the  exit  of  the  punished  one  from  the  pul- 
lev  to  the  door  ;  thence  to  the  pump  in  the  yard,  whence  a  crimson 
rivulet  ran  into  the  street  gutter,  and  along  the  thoroughfare. 

Dan  and  Bill  entered,  grim  and  hatless,  with  Sunday. 

"  Take  off  your  coat !  "  again  reiterated  the  master.  "  Dare  you 
resist  the  law,  and  the  officers  of  the  law.? " 

March,  standing  firm,  replied, — 

"  I  have  committed  no  crime,  sir!  I  will  not  be  whipped  with- 
out resistance  !  " 

'•  Strip  him,  boys  !  Tear  off  his  shirt  !  Can't  waste  time  in  this 
way.     There's  three  more  waiting  to  be  served  !  " 

"  Stand  off  !  "  said  March,  bracing  for  defence.     "  I'll  die  first !  " 

"  Give  up  easy  !  "  said  Sunday.     "  Mus'  come  to  dat  pos'.  " 

In  a  second,  Dan  lay  his  length  one  way,  and  Bill  reeled  another. 
Sunday  came  up  with  them  next  time,  and  the  whole  four  went 
down  to  the  sandy  floor. 

It  was  a  happy  thought  on  the  part  of  the  Southerners,  to  em- 
ploy slaves  to  do  the  accursed  business,  that  they  might  receive 
the  blows  of  resistance  which  were  dealt  upon  the  officials, —  for 
the  law  being  death  to  the  slave  who  dared  to  raise  his  hand  against 
a  white  man,  the  master  would  have  been  subject  to  many  losses  of 
valuable  property.  So  in  the  case  of  March  ;  he  would  have  found 
his  death  before  his  captors  dragged  him,  tied  feet  and  hands,  to 
the  pulley  at  the  post. 

After  the  second  repulse,  the  three  in  the  attack  overpowered 
March  by  wariness  and  iron-muscled  force.  His  clothes  were  torn 
off,  his  back  and  shoulders  stripped  bare,  and  the  rope  of  the 
pulley  was  attached  to  his  wrists.  Away  they  pulled ;  every  turn 
of  the  wheel  yielding  a  demoniac  scream  at  the  dead  weight  it  was 
lifting  ;  for  ]\Iarch,  in  the  struggle,  had  received  a  blow  on  the 
head,  causing  teirjporary  insensibility.  The  dirty  carpet  cap  was 
drawn  ever  his  head  and  face,  to  hide  the  terrible  agony  of  the 
human  lineaments,  while  undergoing  torture.  His  feet  were  se- 
cured to  the  ring  and  staple  at  the  floor. 

Sunday  took  down  a  heavy  whip,  rolled  his  sleeves  afresh,  snd 
stood  off,  to  give  the  lash  a  proper  purchase.     Hissing  in   the  air 


MARt'H  AT  THE  WOELtROUSE. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    ELACK   JUNE.  igy 

like  a  serpent,  it  stung  across  the  bare  back  and  shoulders  of 
March,  ehcting  a  sharp,  responding  groan.  Sunday  rested,  as  was 
the  custom,  for  this  branch  of  slavery  was  reduced  to  an  art  • 
therefore  Sunday  stood  holding  the  heavy  whip  lax  in  his  ri-ht 
hand,  while  the  lash  trailed  upon  the  floor.  "" 

''Tame  him,  Sunday!  Tame  the  infernal  devil!  That's  hi  • 
master's  orders  !  Mind  what  I  say,  Sunday,  or  you'll  be  hauled  up 
there  yourself!  Try  it  again,  and  stop  between  strokes.  That 
vyas  a  good  one  !  That's  the  right  kind  of  a  welt  across  his  shoul- 
ders ! 

Sunday  gathered  up  the  whip,  and  stood  back  again  With 
another  hiss,  it  cut  across  the  welt  of  the  first  stroke ;  like  the  ser- 
pent's fangs,  It  bit  out  a  strip  of  flesh,  and  the  blood  trickled  to  the 
noor. 

"  My  God  !  ejaculated  March. 

"Thats  it,  Sunday!"  grinned  the  workhouse  master.  "That's 
the  talk!"  and  he  promenaded  up  and  down  the  damp,  sanded 
lioor,  whiffing  his  cigar  with  a  surly  nonchalance. 

Sunday  took  breath,  and  trailed  the  lash  again.  Thus  the 
bloody  work  went  on,  till  Sunday's  sleeves  were  spattered  with 
ensangmned  stains ;  till  March's  life  blood  dripped  from  the  o-ory 
lash  ;  till  a  red  pool  lay  curdling  around  the  ring  and  staple  confin- 
ing his  feet.  ^ 

"Take  him  down  !  "  ordered  the  master.  "Can't  exceed  the  law' 
He  11  do  !  " 

The  pulley  loosed,  turned  backwards,  and  uttered  a^^ain  its  re- 
volting shriek.  March's  feet  were  unfastened,  and  th'e  cap  was 
drawn  from  his  face.  Dizzy  and  faint,  he  sank  down  at  the  foot  of 
the  post. 

''  Call   the  constable  with  his  buggy,  to  take  him  to  his  master 
and  come  back  and  put  on  his  clothes."  ' 

They  drew  on  his  tattered  garments,  without  resistance  on  his 
part,  and  bade  him  go. 

March  reeled  out,  half  crazed,  and  was  helped  into  the  buggy. 
At   Ralph's    mansion,  the    new  coachman   met  him   at  the  side 
gate,  and  in  pitying  tones  delivered  the  orders. 

_  "Master  Haywood  says  you  must  go  up  into  my  room  over  the 
kitchen.     I  will  go  with  you." 


198  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Once  there,  the  coachman  whispered, — 

*'  Bear  up,  March,  I  will  take  care  of  you.  We  can't  help  our- 
selves.    May  be  my  turn  next !     Nobody  knows  ! " 

He  laid  him  upon  his  coarse  bed,  and  drew  from  a  hidden  cor- 
ner a  bottle  of  his  master's  wine. 

"Drink  this  glass  full,  and  drink  it  every  day.  I'll  steal  it  every 
day  for  you ;  and  what  I  don't  get,  Prince  Andrew  will,  and  so  will 
Dick.  All  our  hearts  are  breaking  for  you,  March.  But  we  shall 
have  to  dance  and  sing  all  the  more,  for  this  devil's  work  ;  or  we 
shall  be  strung  up  to  the  workhouse  ourselves.  Now,  March,  when 
you  hear  us  laugh  and  sing  below,  and  about  the  yard,  'member 
our  hearts  are  bruised  for  you.     Don't  lay  it  up  against  us." 

He  disposed  March  upon  his  face,  and  covered  his  gashed, 
bleeding  back  with  soft  linen  pieces,  ointed  with  healing  salve  ; 
gave  him  more  wine,  spread  blankets  lightly  over  him,  and  went  to 
the  stables. 

The  nuptial  day  was  fast  approaching.  Ralph  Haywood  had 
just  received  the  last  touch  to  his  dignity  as  a  Southerner  —  the 
substitution  for  the  dubbing  of  the  ancient  knight. 

A  mounted  club  had  been  formed.  Several  ancient  and  honor- 
able companies  were  dismembered,  that  the  choicest  flowers  of 
chivalry  might  fill  the  command  proffered  to  Carolina's  brilliant 
son  ;  and  that  they  might  complete  their  martial  career,  under  so 
distinguished  a  leader.  Thus  he  accepted  the  accolade  of  Colonel 
of  the  Feudal  Battleaxe  Battalion. 

It  will  be  appropriate  hereafter,  to  think  and  speak  of  him  offi- 
cially, as  the  gallant  Colonel  Haywood,  and  in  ordinary  life,  to 
drop  the  boyish  Ralph,  and  meaningless  mister;  never  forgetting 
that  Colonel  Haywood  is  the  synonym  for  daring  bravery,  fearless 
patriotism,  strict  constructionism,  inviolable  hate,  gentle  affection, 
crystalized  cruelty,  knightly  grace.  State  rights  fidelity,  pious  syco- 
phancy, blue- blood  debauchery,  popular  integrity,  and  private 
artifice. 

Two  tasks  yet  remained  to  be  accomplished,  before  he  should 
bend  his  gracious  ear  to  listen  to  the  music  of  Grace's  marriage 
vow.  One  of  these  he  set  about  in  the  morning  hours,  after  a  mid- 
night revelry  at  the  armory  of  the  "  Feudal  Battleaxe  Battalion." 

Dick,  the  coachman,  and  his  father's  waiting-man,  now  acting  in 


WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK  JUNE.  igo 

I\farch's  stead,  were  awake  to  do  his  bidding,  for  they  had  attended 
him  at  the  military  rendezvous.  When  the  coachman  drew  rein  at 
the  iron  gate  for  the  colonel  to  alight,  he  heard  the  order, — 

"Build  a  fire  in  the  kitchen,  and  await  me  there,  with  Dick." 

"What  de  debble  dat  for.?"  said  Dick  to  the  coachman  in  the 
barn.  "What  he  want  now  ?  Had  high  livin' to-night,  and 'feast 
er  flow  ! '  drown  out  in  brandy  and  wines  !  What  wese  got  to  do? 
roas'  turkey  'fore  mornin'  ?  " 

"  Hush  !  "  answered  the  coachman.  "  Keep  your  tongue  silent ! 
You'll  be  the  death  of  us  all,  yet." 

At  three  o'clock  a  knocking  was  heard  at  the  carriage  gate. 
Dick  hurried  down  the  dark  driveway,  and  let  in  two  stalwart 
black  men. 

"  What  yous  come  fur .?  "  asked  Dick. 
"Dunno.     'Bey  orders,"  was  the  brief  reply. 

"Go  in  de  kitchen ;  dere's  good  fire,"  said  Dick  ;  and  ran  up  to 
report. 

Colonel  Haywood  followed  Dick  to  the  kitchen,  and  thus  ac- 
costed the  blacks, — 

"  So  you're  here,  boys .?  Very  well.  Put  that  iron  into  the  fire. 
Rake  open  the  coals,  so  it  will  heat  hotter  than  h— 11 !  " 

He  paced  the  floor  impatiently,  till  it  was  nearly  red  hot.  He 
turned  to  Dick,  who  cowered  by  the  door,  awaiting  his  pleasure. 

"Call  the  coachman." 

He  joined  the  others. 

"Now,  boys,"  said  the  colonel,  "my  nigger  March  is  to  be 
branded.  It's  to  be  done  on  his  right  arm,  below  the  elbow. 
There  !  you  three  are  to  hold  him  in  the  bed,  while  I  apply  the 
iron.     Do  as  I  bid,  or  I've  something  in  this  pocket  for  you." 

He  drew  a  heavy  pistol,  saying  — 

"  Do  you  hear  ?  " 

1^' Wese  heah  massa  ;  we  'bey,"  answered  the  deep  voice  of  Dave. 
Give   me   the  iron,   Dave, "  ordered    the  colonel.     "  Take  the 
light,  coachman,  and  move  on.     I  follow." 

The  nights  of  March,  since  the  whipping  at  the  workhouse,  had 
been  harassed  with  pain  and  wakefulness  ;  and  although  his  back 
and  shoulders,  cauterized  by  the  lash,  were  in  their  tenderest  and 
most  sensitive  condition,  nature  demanded  sleep.     He  therefore 


200  WHITE    MAY,    AND    ELACK   JUNE. 

slept  the  heavy  Lethean  sleep  of  exhaustion.  He  heard  not  the 
subtle  steps  of  the  four  men  —  saw  not  the  candlelight.  He 
dreamed  that  chains  fettered  his  limbs  —  that  handcutis  bound  his 
wrists.  He  made  a  half-conscious  struggle  to  free  himself  from  their 
hateful  pressure  ;  and  awoUe  in  the  steel-like  grasp  of  men  stand- 
ing over  him.     He  was  as  fast  as  if  clasped  in  a  vise. 

In  a  second,  the  hot  branding  iron  was  seething  and  burning  into 
the  flesh  of  his  right  arm.  A  piercing  scream  rang  out,  which 
would  have  made  the  blood  curdle  in  a  human  heart.  But  the  ears 
of  Charlestonians  were  accustomed  to  these  shrieks, —  the  atmos- 
phere was  rife  with  them,  as  with  the  insects'  hum.  So  none 
heeded.  Dave,  Bill  and  the  coachman,  kept  a  cowed,  stolid  si- 
lence.    The  room  was  filled  with  the  smoke  of  charred  flesh. 

"  Cut  my  throat  at  once,  and  have  done  !  "  cried  March.  '•'  Do 
not  murder  me  bv  inches  ! " 

The  master  removed  the  brandinsr-iron  from  his  brother's  arm. 

"There,  curse  you  !  You're  labelled  nov/.  That  '  Col.  R.  H.,' 
won't  wash  out  in  a  day !  Wnen  you  forget  your  owner,  turn  up 
your  sleeve  and  refresh  your  memory.  There's  your  French  free- 
dom !  There's  France!  Cut  your  throat?  No,  can't  afford  to 
waste  two  thousand  dollars.  Take  care  of  yourself.  Remember, 
you  are  part  of  my  estate.  Your  whipping  was  ordered  to  cast  out 
the  infernal  spirit  of  gloom  that  hangs  around  you  like  night.  It 
was  to  give  you  a  shorter  face  ;  and  for  putting  on  airs  of  mourn- 
ing for  a  wench  you  presumed  to  call  your  wife.  Getting  white  a 
few  paces  too  fast.'' 

Two  days  before  the  marriage  of  the  young  planter  of  Vaucluse, 
he  came  earlier  to  dinner  than  was  his  custom.  He  passed 
throuo:h  the  hall  where  Dick  was  stationed  and  bade  him  answer  all 
calls  with  "Not  in."  "Admit  a  person  at  that  door,  boy,  and 
you'll  feel  the  raw-hide."  He  strode  up  to  his  chamber,  sat  down 
to  smoke  and  revolve  events. 

This  last  ante-nuptial  arrangement  should  be  accomplished  to- 
night ;  and  although  a  host  of  lackeys  and  factors  awaited  his  word, 
onl}-,  this  last  and  pleasant  design  must  be  executed  personally. 

"  March  has  his  quietus.  He'll  not  madden  me  more  by  his 
eternally  solemn  face  of  mock  despair.  I've  given  him  something 
for  resignation  now.     D  —  n  him  !  he's  mine  ;  mine  by  the  Decla- 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  201 

ration  of  Independence  ;  mine  by  the  guaranty  of  the  Constitution  ; 
mine  by  the  example  of  the  patriarchs  ;  mine  by  the  laws  of  Chris- 
tianity;  as  much  mine  as  are  the  horses  in  the  stable;  and  the 
deer  on  my  plains.  Let  him  talk  more  of  France  and  freedom  if 
he  dare  !  Let  a  branded  slave  try  escape.  My  name —  the  name 
of  his  owner,  Col.  K.  H.,  will  be  the  swift  witness  that  shall  return 
him  to  me. 

"I  must  see  Charlotte  this  evenins:  and  settle  affairs  for  her  and 
myself.  She's  the  soft  silver  light  that  gilds  this  marriage  of  mine. 
Her  dark,  dreamy,  liquid  eyes  melt  into  my  fiery  soul  and  calm  its 
restless  depths.  Her  placid,  submissive  manner  puts  to  sleep  the 
tiger  within  me.  Her  slow,  swan-like  movement  about  me,  is 
poetry  itself.  With  Solomon  I  say,  '  Her  teeth  are  like  a  flock  of 
sheep  that  are  even  shorn ;  her  lips  are  like  a  thread  of  scarlet,  and 
her  speech  is  comely  ;  her  temples  are  like  a  piece  of  pome- 
granate.' 

"  '  She  walks  in  beauty,  like  the  night 
Of  cloudless  climes  and  starry  skies  ; 

And  all  that's  best  of  dark  and  bright 
Meets  in  her  aspect  and  her  eyes  ; 

Thus,  mellowed  to  that  tender  light, 
Which  Heaven  to  gaudy  day  denies,' 

"  By  Jupiter !  Byron  had  a  soul  for  the  lovely  and  the  beautiful. 
With  Charlotte,  life  is  romance.  Her  shy,  timid  love  for  me  is 
more  fascinating  than  the  coquettish  charms  of  Flora.  Flora ! 
Well,  I  am  avenged. 

"Grace  adores  me;  yet  her  love  is  tiresome, —  like  the  over- 
powering fragrance  of  giant  magnolia  bloom  ;  it  sickens  every 
sense.  £/i,  hien^  Gracie  and  her  dower  will  be  mine,  de  jure.  Sat- 
isfactory, surely  ;  for  the  law  of  South  Carolina,  having  once  joined 
us,  yields  a  right  of  divorce  to  death,  alone.  Charlotte  is  mine  de 
facto.     What  union  is  stronger  ?  "    • 

He  directed  his  waiting-man  to  call  Charlotte,  and  then  to  take 
a  recess  from  attendance,  and  go  to  the  kitchen. 

"Bid  her  dress,"  he  added. 

A  half  hour  elapsed  before  Charlotte  answered  the  summons  in 
person.     The  colonel  went  on  reflecting. 

•'  This  brown  girl  answers  the  demands  of  my  nature.     What  has 


202  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

woman  to  do  with  the  fierce  impulses  and  ambitions  of  men  ?  Why 
attempt  to  place  her  feeble  strength  and  weak  intellect,  as  irrita- 
ting obstacles,  in  the  way  his  will  directs  ?  Charlotte  will  not  in- 
terfere :  always  confiding,  gentle  and  compliant,  she  seeks  to  foster 
the  tenderest  element  of  my  nature, —  my  constant  love.  That  she 
has  affection  for  me  as  strong  as  Gracie,  I  cannot  doubt  ;  and  in 
her  fidelity  to  me  alone,  I  trust.  There  will  be  no  bickerings  con- 
cerning rank  and  possessions  between  us.  Without  questioning, 
without  suspicion,  without  the  look  of  a  d  —  d  drooping  lily,  she 
will  ever  throw  her  arms  about  my  neck,  with  the  same  welcome 
after  absence.  She  cannot  read ;  and  she  needs  to  read  nothing 
but  my  moods.  Par  consequence^  she  will  not  prate  about  literature. 
I  shall  have  enough  of  that  trash  in  another  direction.  The  litera- 
ture of  Haynes  and  the  Constitution  is  all  that  yields  me  one  iota 
of  interest. 

"  I  shall  be  all  right ;  for  Grace  believes  iii  the  immaculate  purity 
of  ma7i  —  in  their  perennial  constancy  to  the  de  jure  wife.  Her 
observations,  restrained  with  angelic  propriety  to  her  father's  ele- 
gant parlors  —  to  her  own  boudoir  and  her  mirror,  have  convinced 
her  of  this.  La,  me,  how  celestial !  I  believe  Grace  is  either  an 
idiot,  or  her  vaulting  pride  overleaps  acknowledgment  of  sun- 
lighted  truths." 

A  step  was  heard, 

"  She  is  coming!  "  he  said  rapturously. 

Charlotte  entered,  closed  the  door,  and  stood  without  advancing, 
as  was  the  custom  of  slaves.  The  colonel  rose  to  look  at  her. 
She  was  dressed  with  elegance  and  taste, —  her  drooping  lids  and 
long  silken  lashes  veiled  her  eyes  and  rendered  her  coyness  doubly 
irresistable. 

"  Come,  Queen  of  my  soul !  "  he  cried,   seating  himself. 

Slowly  she  advanced  to  his  side,  slid  one  arm  about  his  neck, 
and  bent  her  lips  to  his  forehead.  The  reply  to  her  caress  was 
kisses  upon  her  brown  cheeks. 

"  Sit  by  me,  Charlotte  ;  I  have  something  to  tell  you.  " 

She  complied  ;  and  in  her  bounding  pulses,  she  felt  his  silent, 
idolatrous  regard,  but  saw  it  not  beneath  her  drooping  lids. 

"  Do  you  know  I  am  to  be  married  .? '" 

Without  a  cloud  upon  her  face,  she  replied, — 


A  -Mix!:d  love  affair. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  203 

"  I  knew  of  the  marriage,  but  not  the  day.  " 

"It  comes  off  the  day  after  to-morrow,  and  this  is  my  last  happy 
evening  in  this  honse  with  you,  Charlotte.  Don't  tremble  so! 
This  marriage  is  ex-more,  according  to  custom.  You  have  the 
keeping  of  my  heart,  and  will  continue  to  be  its  keeper,  as  long  as 
you  are  faithful  to  me  alone.  " 

He  cast  his  arm  about  her  shoulder,  looking  into  her  dark  eyes. 

"What  am  I  to  expect.?" 

"  My  faithful  love  to  the  last,  master  !  " 

"  And  in  spite  of  the  calm,  sweet  smile  overshadowing  her  brown 
face,  tears  welled  up  to  her  spirit's  brim,  and  plashed  down  upon 
her  face. 

He  took  the  delicate  handkerchief  from  her  lap,  and  holding  it  to 
her  eyes,  said, — 

"  Hush  !  No  more  tears  !  My  factors  have  secured  a  house  for 
your  occupation,  on  the  street  by  the  river.  They  have  sent  furni- 
ture at  my  order.  I  have  been  round  to  inspect  it,  to-day.  You  will 
live  like  a  lady,  as  you  are,  and  I  shall  see  you  there,  without  let 
or  hindrance.  It  is  but  a  few  steps  from  here  ;  and  when  I  am  in 
the  city,  my  servant  will  market  for  you  at  the  same  time  he  mar- 
kets for  this  family.  We  shall  pass  the  remaining  winter  at  Vau- 
cluse,  on  the  plantation.  I  want  you  there.  I  shall  send  down  to 
my  factors  for  a  seamstress.  They  will  send  you  up,  Charlotte. 
Can  you  make  yourself  look  ugly,  to  please  me  .? " 

The  girl  raised  his  hand  to  her  lips,  and  uttering  a  silvery  laugh, 
replied, — 

"  I  will  do  all  you  require  !  " 

"Then  you  must  conceal  that  bewitching  hair  under  a  turban. 
You  must  leave  at  your  home  in  River  street,  most  of  your  charm- 
ing robes,  laces,  and  jewelry.  You  must  wear  plain,"  untrimmed 
clothes;  and  you  must  profess  to  belong  to  my  factors,  who  will 
hire  you  to  Mrs.  Grace  Mowndes.  " 

"_  Of  course,  I  shall  do  all  you  direct ;  but  you  will  tire  of  the 
plain,  ugly-dressed  seamstress,  will  you  not  ?  And  then  the  world 
will  be  dark  to  me.  " 

"  Tire  of  you,  Charlotte  >  Try  me,  and  see  !  You  must  treat  me 
with  perfect  indifference,  in  the  presence  of  others,  and  you  must 
expect  my  gallant  attentions  will  be  tendered  to  Mrs.  Mowndes. 


204  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

But  there  will  be  times  when  you  will  learn  that  a  plain  turban  can 
outvie  the  richest  bonnet  and  plumes.  To  prove  my  sincerity,  I 
propose  that  we  pass  this  night  in  your  house,  that  you  gather  your 
wardrobe  together,  in  one  of  my  trunks,  and  that  my  servant  and 
the  coachman  take  it  round  at  nine  o'clock.  I  will  go  first,  to 
point  the  house  to  you.  You  will  await  me  at  the  next  corner,  and 
follow.  Afterwards  you  will  go  with  the  boys,  to  direct  them,  and 
remain.     I  shall  soon  join  you  there.  " 

"  Shall  I  go  now,  dear  colonel  ?  "  she  asked 

"  It  is  of  no  consequence  how  soon  ;  for  1  shall  join  you  imme- 
diately after  the  trunk.  Can  take  refreshments  there,  as  well  as 
here.  I  will  point  the  house  to  you  now.  Wrap  yourself  warmly, 
and  go.  " 

He  soon  went  out  at  the  side  gate  ;  passed  her  saying, — 

" Come ! " 

At  the  door,  he  turned  back  alone,  after  giving  her  the  key,  and 
whispering, — 

"  Adieu,  my  brown  dove  !  " 

After  a  lime,  he  heard  her  feet  on  the  stairs ;  and  then  the  slow, 
heavy  steps  of  the  servants,  taking  down  the  trunk  ;  then  the  clos- 
ing of  the  gate.  Not  a  trace  of  Charlotte  remained.  His  servant 
returned  to  his  master's  room.  The  colonel  took  up  his  hat  and 
gloves,  saying, — 

"  Make  your  bed  upon  this  floor,  till  I  return.  '* 

Charlotte's  new  abode  was  one  of  beauty  and  convenience. 
Furniture,  carpets,  and  sideboard  were  the  reflection  of  his  taste, 
and  formed  an  inviting  bower  for  his  chosen  companion  and  him- 
self. 

The  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens,  pouring  his  rays  over  the  glit- 
tering waters  of  the  Ashly ;  and  the  streets  were  filled  with  busy 
life,  when  Colonel  Haywood  passed  in  at  his  own  iron  gateway. 

Dick  opened  the  door  for  his  master,  and  hastened  to  warn  the 
cook,  that  "  marse  done  come.  "  Prince  Andrew  came  bowing 
low,  to  inform  the  colonel  that  "  Breakfuss  am  ready,  sir.  " 

'•I  have  breakfasted  !  "  was  the  reply. 

Prince  Andrew  went  to  the  kitchen,  where  were  Jane  the  washer, 
the   coachman,  the   gardener,  the  ironer  and  the   cook,  in   secret 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  205 

conclave.      A  significant  smile  played  about  his  black   fsce,  and 
snowy  teeth,  as  he  announced  with  his  deepest  bow, 

"  De  colonel  hab  dun  breakfuss,  Mistress  Cook  !  " 

A  clear  perception  of  Prince  Andrew's  smile  was  quickly  evinced 
•  by  ail  present.     The  cook,  holding  a  hot  slice  of  toasted  bread   on 
Her  tork,  caught  the  contagious  expression,  and  complimented  his 
grace  of  manner  with  a  courtesy  ;  sayino", 

"■  We  know  whar  marse  done  breakfuss.' " 

"  That's  true,  cook  !  "  remarked  the  coachman.     We  toted  Char- 
ottes  finery   in   one  of  marse's  trunks  last  night  to  a  fine  little 
house  in  River  street. 

A  nodding  of  heads  signified  entire  approval. 

"  xMarse  get  marry  las'  night,  to  him  slabe  bride.     He  marry  -in 
arter  to-morrow.  "  ^  ^    ' 

''Marse  dun  make  wise  selec',  "  giggled  the  butler.  "Charlotte 
be  splendid  !  should  like  Charlotte  myself !  " 

"Trust  the  colonel  for  that !  "  said  the  coachman.  "  He's  as 
good  a  judge  o'  women  as  he  is  of  horses  and  do'^s  i  But  let  me 
warn  you  all  to  keep  back  from  your  mouths,  all  you  see,  hear,  and 
know.  Your  teeth  should  be  the  double  gate,  that  lets  nothino-  es- 
cape Remember!  we  shall  soon  have  to  deal  with  two\Wh 
bloods  instead  of  o.ue.     Remember  March  and  the  workhouse  " 

He  dropped  the  arm  raised  in  warning,  and  went  out  to  the  sta- 
bles.    Prince  Andrew  broke  the  awe  of  the  kitchen 

"  Mistress  Cook,  I'll  tank  you  for  de  dish  ob  toas'  fur  myse'f,  an' 
111  ake  half  dat  omelet,  and  half  dat  shad.  You'se  brown  'em 
'cisely  to  my  taste.  " 

"Don^t  you  want  all  we  to  call  you  'marse ',  besides  '  ole  An- 
drew ?       angrily  returned  the  cook. 

"Dat  would  be  'cisely  to  my  taste  also,  Mistress  Cook.  Gib  me 
gen  wine  cream  for  my  coffee." 

"  Youse  a  gen'wine  ole  fool !     Now  clar  dis  kitchen  '  " 

The  Mowndes  mansion  on  this  day  before  the  marriao-e  of  Grace 
was  in  a  remarkable  hopeful  and  cheerful  condition.  Durino-  the 
vveek  past,  its  posse  of  servants  had  applied  their  labor  and  skill  to 
the  domestic  exploits  of  exterminating  every  fleck  of  soil,  every 
hbre  of  the  spider  s  industry,  and  every  atom  of  dust  in  the  various 
compartments  of  the  edifice,  from  the  £ttic  to  the  basement 


206  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

A  choice  force  of  skilled  polishers  had  been  manipulating  the 
magnificient  and  costly  display  of  family  silver,  for  six  whole  days. 
Solid  silver  pitchers,  wreathed  with  vine  leaves  and  clustered 
grapes  ;  solid  silver  vases,  for  a  profusion  of  flowers ;  solid  silver 
waiters,  chased,  and  bas-relieved ;  the  centre  piece,  a  mirror  set  in 
silver,  and  standing  upon  lion's  heads  ;  stacks  of  silver  plates,  sil- 
ver tea  and  cojEfee  services,  silver  goblets,  vine-entwined  ;  spoons 
and  knives  of  varied  devices,  and  for  various  uses;  silver  cake  bas- 
kets, and  fruit  receivers ;  silver  sugar  bowls,  and  f.all,  Egyptian, 
urn-like  cream-holders ;  two  massive  punch-bowls,  each  of  three 
gallons  capacity  ;  rich,  embossed  silver  ladles  ;  besides  many  other 
appointments  of  the  festive  board,  were  ranged  in  glossy  rows 
adown  the  tables  soon  to  be  spread  for  the  bridal  feast. 

Not  a  shade  of  discolor,  or  a  dust  of  powder  was  discernible 
among  the  elaborate  intricacies  of  embellishment.  The  spacious 
dancing-hall  was  receiving  to-day  its  adornment  of  numerous  and 
costly  silver  candlebra  upon  its  walls,  sheets  of  silver  paper,  and 
soft  blue  tissues  were  being  cut  into  fringes  for  the  reception  of  the 
wax  candles,  whose  pearly  light  should  heighten  the  enchantment 
of  costume  and  complexion,  on  this  coming  important  occasion,. 

Grace  and  her  doling  mother  held  conferences  at  intervals,  on 
the  parlor  sofas,  in  Mrs.  ]\lowndes  chamber,  or  in  Grace's  boudoir. 
An  observer  would  have  read  upon  their  countenances,  in  succes- 
sion, the  trustful,  hopeful,  joyful  emotions  of  woman's  soul,  united 
with  sweet  aniicipation,  and  a  passive  ecstasy  in  the  present,  in 
which  each  seemed  to  be  transfigured. 

"Ah!  my  daughter  is  realizing  the  highest  degree  of  earthly 
happiness  to-day! "  sinking  down  by  her  side,  as  if  exhausted  by  a 
tour  of  inspection. 

"True,  dear  mamma,  my  thoughts  have  at  last  found  a  delicious 
peace,  that  celestial  peace  which  woman  must  ever  taste,  when 
sheltered  under  the  pure  and  manly  love  of  one  formed  by  Nature 
and  position  to  command  unfaltering  devotion.  Such  is  Ralph, 
my  Ralph  !  who,  during  all  these  years  of  absence  and  temptation, 
has  preserved  my  image,  high  above  all  others  ;  and  who  has 
borne  across  the  sea,  and  back  again,  an  unswerving  affection  for 
me, —  an  affection  next  the  adoration  for  his  God. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  207 

Mrs.  Mowndes  held  her  daughter  to  her  heart,  imprinting  kisses 
upon  her  radiant  face. 

"  Ah,  my  precious  child  1  what  unspeakable  pleasure  it  gives  me 
to  hear  the  sacred  words  from  your  lips.  Tempest-tossed  by 
hopes  and  fears,  as  you  have  been,  these  years  of  Ralph's  absence, 
it  is  delightful  to  know  that  your  happy  trust  is  implicit,  and 
that  the  pure  maiden  incense  of  your  young  heart  has  not  been 
offered  before  an  unworthy  shrine.  Soon  you  will  take  his  name, 
and  be  his  alone,  cund  forever. 

"Everything  moves  on  systematically  and  harmoniously.  No 
item  of  preparation  is  omitted.  The  servants  are  in  iiigh  feather 
about  their  *'  dear  young  missus'  '  wedding,  as  they  affectionately 
name  you.     The  silver  is  resplendent,  and  —  " 

The  bell ! 

"Ah!  the  roses  spring  to  my  daughter's  cheeks.  Ah!  the 
sweet  lambent  light  which  plays  through  these  trusting  eyes  !  " 

The  waiting-man  presented  a  waiter,  with  a  card  upon  it.  Mrs. 
Mowndes  took  the  card,  and  presented  it  to  Grace. 

"As  I  thought.  It  is  he.  His  footsteps  turn  hither,  as  the  sun 
to  its  dawning.     Hasten,  my  love." 

Grace  flew  down  to  the  parlor.  Colonel  Haywood's  open  arms 
held  her  to  his  breast,  his  lips  murmured, — 

"  I  cannot  live  so  long  without  thee.  Ah !  the  blissful  to- 
morrow.    To-morrow  thou  shalt  be  mine." 

The  morrow  advanced.  The  sun  came  up  from  the  sea,  veiled 
in  a  silvery,  diaphanous  haze,  which  concealed  his  burning 
glories. 

"Observe,  mamma,"  cried  Grace,  an  ecstatic  thrill  modulating 
her  voice.  "  Observe,  the  very  sky,  atmosphere  and  earth,  honor 
my  bridal." 

"  Surely  my  dear.  A  silvery  opalescence  pervades  each,  in 
harmony  with  the  whiteness  of  these  two  lives,  about  to  be  united 
into  one." 

"Adieu,  Charlotte,  queen  of  my  soul  !"  said  Colonel  Haywood, 
as  he  stood  in  the  hall,  ready  to  leave  her  cosy  nest,  on  River 
street.  "Look  up  brown  dove.  This  is  my  wedding-day.  Be 
not  dismayed.     Once  more,  come.     Let  me  fold  thee  to  this  warm 


203  WHITE    MAYj    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

heart,  that  beats  alone  for  thee,  the  same  yesterday,  to-day  and 
forever." 

With  a  light  laugh,  he  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and  sung, — 

"  Till  a'  the  seas  gang  dry,  my  dear, 

And  the  rocks  melt  wi'  the  sun  ; 
I  will  luve  thee  still,  my  dear, 

While  the  sands  o'  life  shall  run. 
And  fare  thee  well,  my  only  luve  1 

And  fare  the  well,  awhile  ; 
And  I  will  come  again,  my  luve, 

Tho'  it  were  ten  thousand  mile." 


CHAPTER   XII. 

COLONEL  ASHLAND  was  glad  and  relieved  that  the  gov- 
erness was  no  longer  a  tenant  of  the  Hall.  He  had  resolved 
upon  his  future  course  ;  and  that  this  course  of  action  was  warped 
to  his  own  selfish  and  supreme  will,  none  can  doubt.  In  a  land  of 
slaver}^  the  will  of  the  master  is  absolute  law.  The  children  of 
the  slaveholder  are  allowed  the  full  outgrowth  of  this  arbitrary  fac- 
ulty, as  indication  of  a  tendency  directly  towards  their  imperial  des- 
tiny. Therefore,  the  colonel  was  addressed  as  "  young  Marse 
Frank,"  while  he  lay  muling  and  puling  in  his  black  mauma's  arms, 
before  even  the  white  gleam  of  a  tooth  had  set  itself  in  his  baby 
gums.  His  attendants,  young  and  old,  received  upon  their  faces 
and  persons  repeated  testimonials  of  his  Napoleonic  instincts, 
through  his  clenched  fists  and  aggressive  palms. 

Throughout  his  boyish  years,  arrogance,  the  deadly  parasite, 
sucked  vitality  from  every  noble  faculty  and  genial  impulse  of  his 
nature.  Like  the  young  "  King  of  Rome  "  in  an  interview  with 
Josephine  ;  his  sovereign  inquiry  in  a  perplexing  contretemps^  or  em- 
barrassment of  plans,  was, — 

•■'  Why  cannot  this  be,  since  my  papa  and  I  wish  it  ? " 
Colonel  Ashland  married  in  accordance  with  his  own,  and  his 
father's  will.     He  gave  his  hand  and  vows  to  blood,  and  a  broad 
inheritance  ;  reserving  his  heart  for  love's  conquests.     The    frail, 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  209 

high-born  wife  had  reposed  in  St.  Luke's  cemetery,  two  years. 
Her  proud  dust  slept  in  state  within  its  gates,  beneath  the  splen- 
dors of  the  Ashland  column  ;  sheltered  by  marble  wings  of  cheru- 
bim and  seraphim. 

After  the  mistress'  death,  Honora  Hudson  guided  the  helm  of 
household  interests,  in  addition  to  the  duties  of  teaching  the  chil^ 
dren.  In  a  sudden  transport,  at  a  certain  golden  eventide,  musical 
with  mocking  bird's  song.  Colonel  Ashland,  forgetting  his  heredi- 
tary blood,  once  offered  the  fair  governess  his  hand  and  name  ; 
but  her  watchful  eye  was  too  faithful  a  sentinel  for  the  colonel's 
pathway;  and  she  would  not  accept  a  hand,  divorced  from  the 
heart. 

Stung  by  the  insolence  of  refusal ;  enraged  by  the  temerity  that 
dared  to  bafHe  his  designs,  he  still  tauntingly  pursued  his  prey. 
He  felt  himself  wearied  in  the -'insignificant  pursuit ; "  as  he 
styled  it.  He  was  like  the  panting  buttertly-hunter,when  hi's  airy  and 
graceful  decoy  leads  him  into  most  humiliating  places,  and  finally 
sails  away  into  blue  ether,  out  of  reach  either  of    net   or   voice. 

The  firm  refusal  of  the  governess  became  a  thorn  in  his  memory, 
and  he  would  have  nothing  in  "  Nightingale  Hall "  to  remind  him' 
of  her  once  hated  presence.  What  cared  he  for  promises  made  at 
her  death-bed  .?  Her  requests  were  verbally  granted,  to  shorten  a 
disagreeable  interview,  and  also  to  grant  that  satisfaction  which 
none  can  deny  to  a  dying  petition. 

The  slow,  hard  earnings  of  the  governess,  saved  for  the  daughter, 
had  been  placed  in  his  hands  ;  but  he  had  already  handed  over  the 
amount  to  his  own  factors,  where  it  mingled  with  his  thousands,  as 
rain-drops  mingle  with  the  sea. 

Through  his  lady  friends,  he  had  secured  a  place  for  Hattie  in  a 
family  of  rank  in  Charleston,  as  a  sort  of  governess  and  companion 
for  two  children.  He  had  explained  the  anticipated  change  to  the 
young  girl  in  a  favorable  light,—  representing  the  advantages  of 
city  life,  as  more  eligible  than  those  of  their  island  home.''  She 
would  there  see  more  of  society,  become  more  polished  in  mind  and 
habits  by  contact  with  it.  Progress  in  music  also  was  made  an  os- 
tensible inducement  for  the  removal  She  should  leave  the  next 
week,  on  the  river  schooner  touching  at  his  wharf. 

Naturally  timid,  and  rendered  doubly  so  by  the   cold  hauteur  of 


210  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

Colonel  Ashland's  manner,  the  lonely  orphan  withdrew  from  the  in- 
terview with  ill  concealed  eagerness,  and  rushed  to  the  old  nest  of 
Mauma  Rose's  arms. 

"What  happen  now,  chile?  Pisen  snake  done  try  charm  de 
3'oung  missus,  an'  you  done  run  'way  fine  ole  Mauma  Rose  ? " 
Clasping  her  more  closely,  and  brooding  the  fair  brown  head  with 
her  own  shadowy  face,  she  asked  tenderly, — 

"  All  safe  now  den  ?     Say,  honey  ?  " 

"  I  must  leave  '  Nighingale  Hall.'  The  colonel  directs  me  to  go 
to  Charleston.  I  am  to  stay  with  a  lady  and  take  charge  of  two  chil- 
dren.    All  will  be  stransrers  to  me  there." 

As  the  wildwood  jasmine  clings  to  the  black  and  flame-scarred 
forest  pine,  still  strong  in  its  living  heart,  so  the  fearful  Hattie 
threw  her  arms  around  mauma's  neck,  crying, — 

"  Oh  !  if  you  could  go  with  me,  I  could  have  one  friend  !  " 

]\Iauma  fell  to  the  old  habit  of  strokins:  the  fair  hair,  and  with  a 
gentle  swaying  motion,  crooned  an  answer  in  a  low  lullaby  tone. 

"Ole  Rose  slabe,  chile.  Stole  'way  from  ole  Guinea  ;  pack  we  in 
de  ship  hole  ;  chain  we  here  ;  drive  we  ;  sell  we  wid  de  bosses. 
Can't  go  wid  lily-bud.  Marse  tie  dese  feet.  Ole  Rose  gots  nottin 
leff,  when  her  white  flower  done  gone.  Me  one.  All  Rose  lub  dey 
steal  'way.     All  my  chilen  done  sole." 

"  How  many  children,  mauma  ?  " 

"  I  ben  had  ten  chilen,  ^Miss  Hattie,  fine  soun'  chilen.  Isaac,  de 
oles',  tall,  hansum,  ole  marse  footman.  He  ben  de  sun  in  de  hebeu 
to  me ;  but  dey  sell  him,  put  on  de  hancufts  in  de  dinin-room. 
Trader  take  him  'way, — cussin  him  an'  cussin  me,  'cause  I  foller, 
dras:  'Ions:  on  mv  knees  an'  be^:  dem  leave  me  one  chile," 

"Was  Isaac  the  last  one  sold,  mauma?  "  and  Hattie  sat  looking 
at  the  sorrowful  face,  tenderly  and  unconsciously  smoothing  the 
bright  folds  of  the  turban  on  the  stricken  head. 

"  Yes,  miss,  dey  sell  de  odders  long  fore.  But  I  got  suthin  to 
'member  Isaac  ;  dey  can't  steal  dat." 

"  What  have  you,  mauma  ?  " 

"  Stan'  up  honey,  dere,  I  show  you." 

The  black,  trembling  hands  begun  to  open  her  diess,  and  to 
drav/  it  from  her  shoulders.     Hatiie  assisted,  ignorant  of  the  rev- 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  211 

elation   in  waiting.     Suddenly  her  hands  dropped  from  her  task. 
She  shrieked  out, — 

"What  is  it,  mauma?  " 

"  Dat  where  I  'member  my  poor  boy.  Dat  where  I  mourn.  Dat 
where  I  shed  my  blood  fur  him." 

For  the  first  time,  Hattie  looked  upon  the  human  form,  scarred 
by  the  slave-whip.  Long  welts  of  the  thickness  of  a  man's  finger, 
ridged  her  back,  where  the  ugly  ragged  gashes  had  healed.  Knots 
of  scored  flesh,  interspersed  with  seamed  patches,  disfigured  the 
shoulders  and  struck  horror  to  Hattie's  sympathetic  soul.  Indeed, 
none  but  demons  could  look  upon  those  bloody  bas-reliefs,  un- 
moved. Yet  there  were  few  in  our  young  Republic,  who  even 
dreamed  that  these  and  other  similar  medalions  of  the  slaver's 
lash  would  ever  call  to  Heaven  for  its  unmitigated  wrath,  or  a  na- 
tion which  stamped  God's  image  with  such  hellish  dies. 

Hattie  made  rapid  interrogation.     Mauma  repeated  the  scene. 

"Ebry  day  I  cry,  wring  dese  ole  han',  can't  eat,  grow  tin,  sick, 
pray  God  to  die.  Isaac  tall  —  gran'  like  Africa  palm,  gone  out  ob 
my  sight,  I  neber  see  him  mo'.  Den  dey  cuss  me,  tie  me  to  de 
tree,  cut  dis  back  up  —  Oh  !  Lor  Jesus  !  till  I  die,  faint  'way." 

"O  mauma,  how  cruel !  but  they  don't  treat  slaves  so  now  ?  I 
never  saw  one  whipped." 

"  Dey  don'  want  de  Norf  people  ter  know  all  dere  debble  work. 
You'  mudder  here,  Marse  Ashland  cut  de  people  out  ob  sight  ob 
her  eye.  But  O  Lor' !  he  whip  dough.  When  you  done  gone,  he 
tie  'em  up  to  ebry  tree  in  dis  yard.  Now.  dear  chile,  heah  ole  Rose. 
You  young.  Don'  spect  nottni.  Ebryting  in  dis  Ian'  b'long  to  de 
slabe  marser.  He  put  him  han'  on  ebryting  hansum,  an'  call  it 
him  own.  Ebrybody  slabe  but  him.  He'll  put  dat  han'  on  you, 
poor  )ily-bud.     Fse  seen  heap  in  dis  country.  ^  Ole  Rose  know." 

"  Mauma,  I  am  a  Northerner.  I  do  not  belong  to  the  South  ;  they 
cannot  claim  me.  And  besides,  I  have  a  thousand  dollars  to  take 
me  away,  if  I  chose  to  go." 

"Jes  what  I  tell  ye,  'spects  nottin.  Dese  yere  Southerners  hate 
de  Norf  people,  dey  'spise  'em.  I  ben  to  de  Norf  wid  ole  marse 
and  missus,  when  I  nurse  dis  same  Marse  Ashland.  Him  wife,  de 
missus,  say  all  dem  mean,  lowborn  Yankee;  dey  work  jes  like  her 
slabe, —  mock  arter  'em,  make  gran'  sport  arter  'em.     Dey  hate  'em. 


2  12  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

I  tell  ye,  honey.  De  Norf  people  treat  des  Southerners,  like  king 
an'  queen, —  kine  to  we.  But  dese  'buse  de  Norf  gentleum  an'  lady 
dere,  an'  when  dey  comeheah.  jMauma  Rose  pray  for  her  lily-bud  ; 
but  'pears  de  Lor'  done  heah  prayers  out  ob  dis  Ian'." 

In  the  cup  now  placed  to  Hattie's  lips,  the  bitter  and  the  .sweet 
sharply  commingled.  Bitterly  sad  was  the  contemplation  of  part- 
ing from  the  scene  of  her  mother's  death,  and  the  last  look  at  her 
lonely  grave.  On  the  other  side,  Charleston,  Ti'iih  rainbow  sights 
and  sounds,  beckoned  her  away  with  syren  hand.  Some  tears  fell 
among  the  stores  of  her  trunk  in  packing.  During  her  twilight 
garden  stroll,  drops  heavier  than  evening  dews  nestled  into  the 
hearts  of  roses,  and  plashed  upon  the  leaves  of  the  roses. 

Colonel  Ashland  had  now  reached  the  acme  of  his  wishes  ;  but 
he  had  not  attained  to  this,  through  patient  wailing  for  the  fulfill- 
ment of  a  long  cherished  desire.  He  had  surveyed  all  barriers  to 
this  slow  crisis,  with  the  ferocity  of  an  untamed  nature.  He  was 
simply  kept  at  bay  by  a  hand  and  eye  such  as  enters,  unharmed, 
the  cages  of  grovvling  lions.  Honora  Hudson's  wand  of  power, 
althou2:h  it  budded  and  blossomed  like  Aaron's,  serenely  swaved 
his  instincts,  and  led  him  to  perform  many  feats  of  gentleness  and 
docility,  quite  foreign  to  his  plans. 

But  now  he  was  master  of  the  field.  Death  came  to  his  aid, 
and  carried  his  keeper  awa}-.  He  was  now  sovereign  of  his  own 
destiny  ;  and  in  his  hands  he  held  the  destiny  of  every  walking, 
living  being  at  the  Hall.  He  dispatched  his  footman  to  the  quar- 
ters, with  an  order  for  Cleopatra  to  come  up  to  the  house  at  the 
expiration  of  a  half  hour. 

Cleo's  cabin  had  been  given  to  herself  and  mother — unlike  the 
others  in  the  same  negro  hamlet.  The  room  was  a  model  of  neat- 
ness. There  was  one  glazed  window  looking  out  under  the  foliage 
of  a  broad-spreading  fig.  White  curtains  were  looped  away  at  the 
casings  ;  a  new  mantel  over  the  broad  fireplace  held  a  vase  of 
roses;  w'ith  various  other  fancy  articles  rarely  found  in  slave 
cabins.  A  table  with  a  snow-white  cover,  held  piles  of  negro 
cloth  cut  into  garments  ;  some  finished,  and  others  in  process  of 
making.  The  old  black  mother  was  spinning  cotton,  with  her 
turban  neatly   folded  about  her  gray  head.     Pieces   of   carpeting 


WHITE    MAY,   AND    ELACK   JUNE.  2  I3 

covered  nearly  the  whole  floor.  There  were  painted  chairs  also 
and  one  that  had  evidently  been  brought  from  the '^bi-  house'' 
as  It  rolled  on  castors,  and  had  its  arms  and  back  stuffed  with 
crunson  covers  Its  mates  were  still  at  the  Hall.  This  chair  was 
by  the  curtained  window,  and  wore  its  white  muslin  cover  thrown 
loosely  over  it,  as  a  shield  from  casual  dust. 

There  was  also  a  carved  bedstead,  a  counterpane,  droopin-  with 
fringes,  a  pavilion  also,  looped  neatly  away,  and  pillows  hi-h,  soft 
and  inviting  with  a  pleasant  bit  of  lace  falling  from  the  Sd^e  of 
the  slips.  The  rough  boards,  joists  and  braces  of  the  walls,  pure 
and  white  with  hme  wash,  had  a  cleanly,  inviting  air.  The  split 
pine  fence  woven  in  and  out  of  its  upper  and  lower  railings,  con- 
cealed Its  rude  structure  by  a  veil  of  trumpet  honeysuckle  and 
fragrant  jasmines  ;  while  the  walk  from  the  gate  to  the  humble 
door  was  fringed  with  snow-drops  and  daffodils  which  in  early 
spring  vied  with   the  breath  of  English  violets  and  hyacinth  bells. 

All  these  expressions  of  taste  within  and  without  Cleo's  cabin 
had  a  meaning.  There  were  symbols  which  even  the  untutored 
minds  of  her  sable  neighbors  easily  deciphered.  They  knew 
whose  feet  walked  to  that  door  among  lilies  and  violets.  Without 
the  aid  of  belles- ettres,  they  divined  the  poetry  of  the  crimson  arm- 
chair, and  the  chivalrous  romance  of  the  plump,  white  pillows,  and 
the  fringed  counterpane.  i  ,       ^ 

Cleo  received  the  master's  orders  with  a  quicker  heart-beat  : 
laid  by  the  thimble  and  needle  with  her  half-tinis  hed  work,  and 
employed  the  half  hour  in  making  her  toilet. 

She  passed  out  of  the  gate,  glided  along  the  narrow  footpath 
and  up    the    broad  avenue    to  the    Hall     Springing  up  the    broad 
flight  of  steps   to  the  piazza,  and  thence   up   another  flight  to  her 
master  s  room,  she  entered  and  stood  by  the  door,  her  eyes  fallino- 
to  the  floor.  ^  ^ 

Cleopatra,  like  Queen  Esther,  "had  put  on  her  royal  apparel" 
before  she  stood  in  the  inner  court  of  the  king's  house  "  This 
evening,  she  chose  a  robe  of  white,  with  a  deep  embroidered 
flounce.  Its  trimmings  and  ornaments  were  of  blue  A  blue 
satin  sash  encircled  her  waist,  and  fell  in  long  ends  at  her  side. 
Blue  ribbons  looped  up  the  full  puffs  of  her  sleeves,  and  fluttered 
down  over  a  frill  of  lace  to  the  elbows.     Blue  pendants  trembled 


214  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

in  her  small  ears,  and  a  match  of  bracelets  clasped  her  bare,  round 
arm. 

She  was  "black,  but  comely,  O  ye  daughters  of  Jerusalem." 
The  sun  "  had  looked  upon  "  her,  and  her  soft  skin  was  of  velvety 
blackness.  Her  genuine  African  hair  was  combed  away  into 
soft  masses,  each  side  of  her  forehead  ;  a  band  of  blue  velvet 
sinking  in  among  the  crisp,  tiny,  curls,  gleamed  out  above  the  part- 
ing. The  white  drapery  of  her  attire  fell  gracefully  about  her 
tall  figure.  Iler  long,  taper,  fingers  were  clasped  patiently,  and  her 
dreamy  eyes  Vv'ere  hidden  by  drooping  lids,  and  long  jet  lashes. 

"But  not  once  her  lips  she  opened  ; 
Not  a  single  word  she  uttered." 

A  deep  tide  of  joy  crept  through  her  pulses ;  but  having  been 
born  and  raised  a  slave,  a  ready  self-control  veiled  every  emotion, 
and  she  appeared  as  cold  and  statuesque  as  marble  itself. 

The  colonel  knew  how  to  speak  life  into  the  immobile  figure 
before  him.  He  extended  both  his  hands ;  in  a  tender,  and 
almost  supplicating  tone,  he  said, — 

"Cleo,  come  to  me." 

She  came  forward,  and  laid  her  dark  hands  in  his.  He  drew  her 
to  a  seat  beside  himself,  looked  at  her  smilingly,  and  remarked, — 

"You  have  arrayed  yourself  charmingly,  to-day.  Cleo,  you  quite 
ravish  me." 

He  retained  one  of  her  hands  in  his  own,  with  the  other  he  ca- 
ressed lightly  the  soft  masses  of  her  jet  black  hair. 

Oh !  the  transforming  power  of  Love.  By  its  divine  alchemy, 
the  earth  is  glorified.  The  vulgar  are  set  upon  thrones.  The 
.o-lowerin£:s  of  adverse  fate  Vv'arm  into  the  smiles  of  a  kind  Provi- 
dence.  Beneath  the  wand  of  the  sweet  sorcerer,  the  self-willed, 
supercilious,  irascible  Master  Ashland,  became  pliant,  complacent, 
and  serene.  His  soul,  gnarled  and  deformed  by  the  inheritance 
of  absolute  power  over  an  abject  race,  became  beautiful  as 
Apollo,  ill  lifting  up  one  of  that  race  to  an  equality  with  himself. 

*'  Like  a  man  from  dreams  awakened, 
He  was  healed  of  all  his  madness  !   • 
As  the  clouds  are  swept  from  heaven, 
Straightway  from  his  brain  departed 
All  his  moody  melancholy  !  " 


WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  215 

"  Look  up,  Cleo  !  are  you  frightened  ?  Where  are  your  eyes  ? 
There,  that's  it!  Here's  the  dimples!  Now  I  have  something  to 
say  I     Going  to  Hsten  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir  1 " 

"  Well  then  ;  this  is  the  moment  I  have  impatiently  waited  for ; 
you  will  come  to  my  room  by  stealth  no  longer;  and  I  shall  be  re- 
lieved of  the  necessity  of  walks  to  your  cabin.  It  is  too  much 
trouble  !     I  shall  have  a  change.  " 

Iler  eyes  flashed  full  upon  him.  BrimfuU  of  startled  fear,  she 
laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm,  and  cried, — 

"  Oh  !  master  !      Shall  I  be  sold  .?  "     My  dear  master,  shall  I  be  * 
sold?  "     A  groan  of  anguish  followed,  and  her  head  dropped. 

That  harrowing  cry  was  plainly  heard  in  the  yard,  in  the  kitchen, 
down  the  avenue,  and  among  the  garden  roses,  apparently  unno- 
ticed. The  old'  gardener  plied  his  hoe,  the  servants  went  on  as 
usual.  The  mosses  in  the  avenue  might  have  been  gray  stalactites, 
dripped  from  green,  embowering  caverns.  To  all  intents,  Cleo's 
agonized  scream  might  have  been  the  casual  trill  of  a  bird,  or  the 
crisp  rustle  of  a  magnolia  leaf,  falling  from  the  stem.  Not  an  eye 
raised  to  the  mister's  room ;  and  yet  the  deaf  ears  heard,  stolid 
hearts  thrilled  with  sudden  pain,  and  low,  short  prayers  in  the 
forms  of  "O  God !  O  Lord  !  O  Christ!  "  floated  upward.  Doubt- 
less, He  who  graciously  heeds  the 

'*  Upward  glancing  of  an  eye  ; 
The  falling  of  a  tear  ;  " 

gave  His  compassionate  attention  to  these  short  petitions.  Doubt- 
less He  comprehended  their  rare  value  as  the  crystalized  lan- 
guage of  intensest  suffering.  In  the  brevity  of  these  appeals.  He 
may  have  recognized  the  condensed  virtue  of  a  half  hour's  con- 
ventional address  to  His  name ;  if,  indeed,  the  learned  devotion  of 
that  era  ever  disturbed  the  courts  of  Heaven.  On  this  immediate 
occasion,  although  these  prayers  may  have  been  groundless,  let  us 
suppose  they  represented  the  general  necessities  and  condition  of 
their  class,  and  were  divinely  registered  accordingly. 

Colonel  Ashland's  own  heart  was  shocked  by  that  cry.  'He 
quickly  took  both  her  wrists  in  his  hands,  in  order  to  draw  her  to 
himself,  in  assurance  of  perfect  safety. 


2l6  WHITE    MAY,   AND    CLACK  JUNE. 

Again  the  dark  eyes  lifted  full  upon  him  the  pleading  helpless- 
ness, which  only  a  slave  can  feel.  Another  agonized  cry  rose  up 
among  the  magnolias,  and  echoed  adown  the  still  avenue. 

"  O  my  God  !  the  handcuffs  !     O  Lord  !  the  handcuffs  now  ? " 

"  Hush  !  Cleo,  hush  !  I  say.  You  will  not  be  sold.    Never  !  never  !  " 

He  drew  her  near  to  him.  Sorrowfully,  and  lovingly  he  re- 
turned her  questioning  gaze. 

*'  Cleo,  listen  !  When  you  are  sold  on  the  auction  block,  they 
will  bid  me  off,  also  These  soft,  white  hands  of  mine  are  all  the 
manacles  your  wrists  shall  ever  feel.  Stop  trembling,  for  God's 
sake !  Don't  look  so  much  like  a  hunted  doe.  Get  that  terrific 
fear  out  of  your  eye.s',  girl !  " 

He  allowed  the  wrists  to  fall ;  but  with  a  clasp  of  his  arm,  he 
held  her  still.  His  lips  touched  her  forehead.  He  held  her  from 
him,  and  studied  the  tumult  in  her  soul,  with  the  utmost  concern. 

*'  Sell  you,  Cleo?  Why  did  you  think  it.^  The  auctioneer  that 
would  barter  you  on  his  cursed  table,  would  find  himself  suddenly 
disabled  for  his  profession  by  my  friend,  here  !  "  laying  a  hand 
upon  the  pistol  in  his  pocket.  "  One  of  these  bullets  would  give 
his  soul  an  easy  ride  to  eternity  !  " 

For  a  moment,  a  fearful  cloud  darkened  all  the  love-light  on  his 
face. 

Cleo's  whole  soul  gladdened,  with  a  sense  of  relief  from  what  to 
her,  would  have  been  a  living  death.  Like  the  wrecked  mariner, 
she  had  been  dragged  from  the  drowning  roar  of  breakers  ;  her  feet 
now  stood  firmly  upon  dry  ground.  A  glad,  appealing  smile  broke 
over  her  features. 

That  smile  Vv'as  a  blossom  of  the  master's  cultivation,  as  woman's 
most  approved  smiles  usually  are.  Man's  pride  (may  be  uncon- 
scious to  himself,)  is  to  ever  find  his  pleasure-gardens  beauiitied, 
and  perfumed  with  their  efflorescence ;  constituting  a  flora  of  es- 
pecial training,  and  sickly  growth  of  shade,  redolent  with  submis- 
sion, humilit}',  adoration,  self-abnegation,  tearful  hope,  and  childish 
trust.  Such  was  the  grateful,  adoring  look  of  Cleo,  which  gave 
her  whole  heart  into  the  colonel's  keeping.  The  cloud  on  his 
brow  reflected  the  brightness  of  hers,  and  linally  disappeared. 

He  well  knew  that  he  was  her  Fate,  her  protector,  or  annihilator. 
Although  he  secretly  relished   these  flattering  testimonials   to   his 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  217 

power  —  the  slave  girl's  agony,  and  servitnde, —  love  led  him  to  act 
in  the  capacity  of  the  former. 

"Now  tell  me,  Cleo,  why  you  thought  of  being  sold  ?  Have  I  not 
passed  hours  at  your  cabin  every  day  ^  Have  I  ever  forgotten  to 
bring  back  something  to  please  your  fancy,  in  my  city  goings  .''  " 

She  did  not  repl}',  but  caressed  one  of  his  fair  hands  in  both  her 
own,  and  raised  it  to  her  lips. 

"  Speak  !  tell  me  why !  You  shall  say  what  you  like,  without 
reproof.  " 

"  Pardon  me !  but  I  thought  you  might  have  won  some  fair, 
lovely  Carolina  wife,  and  when  her  proud  step  should  enter  these 
halls,  your  poor,  black  Cleo  must  be  far  away.  *' 

"  Pshaw !  I  married  once  in  accordance  with  our  custom.  I 
married  houses,  lands,  and  Southern  pride.  IVIy  v.-ife  lies  in  St. 
Lukes'  cemetery,  and  my  Northern  school-ma'am  lies  outside  ; 
where  plebeians  should;  whence  I  trust  she  will  never  rise,  till 
Gabriel's  trump  sha.kQS  terra  Jirma.  I  swear,  I  fear  to  blow  my 
dog-whistle,  lest  she  mistake  it  for  that  fellow's  horn  ! " 

"  She  was  white,  master ;  and  had  eyes  the  color  of  the  sky. " 

"  Blue  eyes  !  the  devil !  I'll  have  no  more  of  them.  Give  me 
dark  eyes  !  your  eyes,  Cleo !  soft,  and  calm  as  the  deep  repose  of 
Indian  lakes. " 

She  continued  caressing  the  master's  hand ;  but  asked  the  true 
meaning  of  those  words,  "  She  should  come  to  his  room  no  longer ; 
and  "  It  was  too  much  trouble  to  go  to  her  cabin.  " 

"Why  nothing  more  nor  less,  than  that  my  poor  black  Cleo  shall 
come  here  to  the  '  big  house',  into  the  adjoining  room,  to  live,  to 
stay,  to  sew,  to  take  charge  of  things,  aud  to  love  her  cruel  master ! 
How's  that?     How's  the  last  clause,  princess?" 

"Do  not  doubt  that  my  feet  will  fly  to  obey  your  wishes.  Oh  !  I 
have  dared  to  worship  you  !  but  it  was  because  you  first  took  such 
notice  of  me.  It  is  too  much  to  know  that  I  shall  not  be  cast  away 
from  )'Our  presence !  I  am  too  happy !  I  will  follow^  your  steps 
like  your  faithful  Spanish  hound  '  Reina,'  so  I  am  only  near 
you.  " 

She  laid  one  hand  on  his  shoulder,  resting  the  other  upon  his 
knee.  Her  eyes  filled  with  regretful  humiliation.  In  an  humble 
voice,  she  bewailed  the  absence  of  those  charms,  which  she  sup- 


2l8  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK  JUNE. 

posed  most  acceptable  to  him,  which  would  lessen  the  probability 
of  a  future  separation. 

"  I  wish  God  had  made  me  beautiful,  so  that  you  might  keep  me 
near  you,  forever !  Oh !  why  did  not  my  Maker  give  mc^  too,  a 
waxen  skin  ;  cheeks  and  lips  of  rose-color,  like  Ilattie's  ?  Why 
could  I  not  have  had  hair —  " 

"  Straight  as  an  Indian's,  hey  t  Now  if  you  had  pink  eyes,  blue 
blood,  and  long  waxen  locks,  you  could  not  have  mc !  Hear?  Do 
you  think,  my  dear  Egyptian,  that  I  was  born  in  South  Carolina, 
and  cannot  choose  for  myself  1  ]\Ioreover,  that  what  my  choice  elects, 
I  will  not  possess?  Furthermore,  we  hear  enough  of  'golden 
strands,'  and 'auburn  tresses,'  and  all  that  threadbare  nonsense; 
but  I  know 

"  *  Hair  of  glossy  living  spray, 

Tossed  up  from  midnight  into  day  j 
Beneath  which  lies  in  hidden  whirls 
Infinitesimals  of  curls ; 
Meshed  into  eddies  —  into  rings  — 
Like  woven  lace  !  —  coquettish  things  ! 

And  every  coil  so  shyly  meshed, 
No  larget  than  a  dew-drop's  nest. 
Holds  in  its  close  and  coy  embiace 
A  marvelous,  and  pensile  grace. 
It  is  a  dower  of  tropic  blood, 
That  pours  its  glory  like  a  flood. 

Alike  upon  the  Saxon  head  ; 

Or  round  the  Indian  brow  of  red, 

Anointing  evejy  other  race 

With  Beauty's  most  entrancing  grace  I 

It  weaves  its  wild  enchantment  through 

The  veins  of  Gentile,  Greek,  or  Jew  ! 

Where'er  a  soul  holds  Nature's  trust, 
That  mystic  power  forever  just  — 
The  love  that  heeds  no  stifling  call. 
Which  knows  no  autocrat,  no  thrall  — ^ 
There  doth  this  dower  of  tropic  blood 
Unloose  its  dark,  bewildering  flood  ! 

There  do  these  tiny,  clinging  whirls, 
Unfold  and  drop  caressing  curls  ! 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  219 

Then,  laughing  waves,  and  rippling  jet 
Show  household  heads,  tiara  set  — 
Such  wondrous  beauty  rarely  falls 
To  harem  bowers,  or  monarch's  halls.' 

"  There,  Cleo,  what  do  you  think  of  your  hair  now,  when  poesy 
wreaths  with  fairy  measure  such  a  crown  f6r  you  ?  What  about 
these  funny  little  dew-drops'  nests  ?  " 

"  Do  not  be  angry ;  but  I  scarcely  understand  its  meaning.  It 
sounds  like  music.  Please  explain  it.  I  can  neither  read  nor 
understand.  Oh  !  I  fear  the  master  wall  tire  of  Cleo,  and  desire 
other  society  for  his  happiness." 

"  Hush !  Cleo.  I  can  do  the  reading  for  both.  Your  under- 
standing is  comprehensive  enough  to  know  that  I  want  you  fri^e  to 
me.  That  is  the  beginning  and  end  of  it  all.  I  can  read  poetry  to 
you,  and  elucidate  also.  This  little  poem  signifies,  that  in  your 
blood  lies  a  mine  of  beauty  for  the  world  j  that  wherever  it 
mingles  with  that  of  another  race  or  people,  it  laughs  out  in 
showers  of  long,  falling  curls,  whether  that  race  be  White,  Indian 
or  Chinese.  It's  true  as  God  is  in  the  heavens,  that  my  faded  race 
finds  a  new  baptism  of  strength,  color  and  elegance,  from  just  such 
as  yourself;  Cleopatra  the  Second." 

"Now,  let  nothing  annoy  you  ;  the  premises  are  under  my  con- 
trol. I  shall  have  no  other  wife  before 76'^<J.  Minnie  is  sold;  she 
goes  to  morrow.  That  may  lessen  anxiety  on  your  part.  The  old 
nurse  Rose,  will  retain  charge  of  my  two  children,  in  the  other 
wing  of  the  house.  I  want  always  to  see  you  in  my  room  when  I 
enter,  or  within  hearing  of  the  slightest  call.  I  must  hear  your 
voice  and  step,  first  of  all," 

"  Can  I  be  heard  on  one  subject,  which  is  troublesome  still .?  " 

"Yes,  Cleo,  speak  on." 

"  When  your  sisters  from  Mobile  visit  here,  what  if  they  repre- 
sent me  to  you  as  unfaithful  to  your  interests  ?  Shall  I  lose  your 
esteem,  then .?  Shall  I  take  the  lash  at  their  hands  ?  Shall  you 
allow  them  to  sepatate  us  ? " 

"  By  Heaven  !  no  !  They  understand  me  too  well  to  cross  my 
wishes.  If  they  come,  go  on  in  your  pleasant  manner,  wait  upon 
them  patiently,  and  quietly  tell  them  all.  fF/io  or  w/ia^  shall  dare 
to  come  between  a  man  and  bis  choice  .-*  " 


220  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  But  I  am  only  yours  at  your  pleasure.  There  cannot  be  mar- 
riage between  us." 

"  Cleo,  there  is  all  the  marriage  between  us  necessary.  In  our 
State,  there  is  the  legal  form  of  marriage  without  the  soul  ;  but  the 
soul  of  marriage  exists  without  the  form.  Ours  is  the  latter. 
Have  yonr  bureau  and  the  chairs  brought  to  the  house  this  evening  ; 
also  the  French  bed,  and  place  them  in  the  ante- room.  Hear, 
Princess  ?  I  go  over  to  Major  Regnal's  plantation  for  this  even- 
ing ;  to-morrow  morning  to  Charleston  with  Hattie.  I  shall  bring 
dresses  and  trinkets  for  you.     What  colors  shall  your  dresses  be  ?  " 

"  The  colors  and  material  that  pleases  you  most,  I  prefer." 

"Very  well,  then.  Leave  it  tome.  Ring  for  the  butler;  tell 
him  to  bring  my  favorite  wine  and  cakes  from  the  pantry,  with  a 
cut  of  the  old  Northern  cheese." 

When  the  silver  waiter  was  brought,  by  a  strange  intuition,  or 
under  a  more  definite  impression,  it  bore  fwo  wine  glasses,  and 
other  twin  etc.  The  butler  retired  with  the  gravest  of  bows,  which 
covered  a  sly,  comical  glance  at  Cleo. 

"Pour  the  ruby  draught,  Cleo.  Touch  my  glass  with  yours  — 
drink  to  me  health,  long  life,  and  your  own  true  heart." 

He  rose,  took  a  turn  around  the  room,  measured  the  falling  sun, 
and  sung  in  rich,  rollicking  tones  an  old  refrain, — 

"  Now  tip  to  mine  your  glass. 
My  bonnie,  bonnie  lass  ; 
Then  let  their  ringing  chime 
Float  down  the  stream  of  Time. 
We'll  drain  these  cups  together 
To  love,  and  sunny  weather. 
To  all  life  holds  in  fee, 
Drink  !  Hebe,  drink  to  me ! 

She  filled  the  glasses,  presented  one  to  the  colonel,  and  touched 
the  crystal  rim  of  hers  to  the  one  her  master  held.  Then  she 
raised  the  glowdng  symbol  above  the  blue  band  in  her  hair.  She 
besought  Heaven  to  grant  all  his  requests,  and  more,  to  the  one 
object  of  her  adoration  —  her  master. 

The  declining  sun  carpeted  the  broad  piazza  floor  with  shadows, 
mottling  it  between  the  dark  bars  cast  by  the  pillars,  with  dancing 
shapes  of  breezy  leaves.     The  embroidered  curtains,  waving  in  and 


WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  221 

out  of  the  windows,  admitted  a  slant  beam  full  into  the  uplifted 
glass,  illuminating  its  heart  like  a  flame. 

"  See  !  "  she  said.  "  Heaven  smiles,  and  the  wine  changes  to  a 
living  fire !  " 

Her  own  eyes  kindled,  lighted  with  a  deep  joy,  at  the  revelations 
of  the  past  few  hours.  That  scene  was  an  inspiration  for  the  hand 
of  an  artist.  It  was  a  picture,  which  truthfully  transferred  to  canvas, 
would  have  given  the  flattest  contradiction  to  the  ever-vaunted 
prejudices  against  color,  and  the  boast  of  blue  blood.  Copies  of 
this  unique  bridal  of  the  purest  white,  and  deepest  black — of 
power  and  lowliness;  classed  among  other  masterpieces  of  art,  or 
suspended  in  the  Capitol  side  by  side  with  Rolfe  and  Pocahontas, 
or  illuminating  the  elegant  periodicals  of  the  day,  would  have  shown 
this  prejudice  to  be  a  fabrication,  a  myth,  finding  its  futile  form 
only  upon  the  deceitful  tongues  or  men. 

Man  has  ever  professed  to  love,  in  woman,  gentleness,  amiability, 
and  a  placid  homage  to  his  self-styled  superiority.  Slavery  had 
molded  Cleo  into  the  most  perfect  type  of  Colonel  Ashland's  choice. 
His  desideratiwi  was, — 

"Health  and  quiet,  and  loving  words." 

Pride  of  birth  and  statutes  frowning,  "Love  is  mightier  than 
all."  He  neither  could  nor  would,  close  his  heart  against  his  dark 
"Maud  Muller." 

"  He  thought  of  his  sisters,  proud  and  cold ; 
And  his  mother,  vain  of  her  rank  and  gold," 

But  he  was  one  to  tear  away,  like  spider's  webs,  all  the  ^^might 
have  beens  "  from  his  life. 

There  was  a  law  in  South  Carolina,  taking  away  from  a  slave  the 
power  to  contract  marriage.     It  ran  thus, — 

"  A  slave  cannot  even  legally  contract  marriage.  The  marriage 
of  such  an  one  is  morally  good  \  but  in  point  of  law,  the  union  of 
slave  with  slave,  or  slave  and  free  negro,  is  concubinage^  mej-ely.^^ 
Consequently,  Carolina's  "pure"  and  wise  legislators,  the  guardians 
of  her  well-being,  had  instituted  a  system  of  concubinage,  of  as 
strong,  matted  a  growth,  as  were  the  grasses  of  her  plains  and  hill- 
sides. It  sprung  up  in  the  very  crevices  of  their  hearthstones.  It 
was  destined  to  choke  the  roses  and  lilies  of  every  pleasant  spot. 


222  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Among  the  majority  of  her  people,  there  could  be  no  legal  mar- 
riage. Therefore,  in  law.  Colonel  Ashland  was  entering  upon  a 
course  of  concubinage ;  but  in  the  social  practices  of  his  State,  he 
had  solemnized  a  marriage  '■''  morally  goody 

So  together  they  both  drank  the  wine  of  that  sacrament,  which 
the  law  declared  morally  good.  She  sat  down  by  his  side  content. 
But  her  heart  throbbed  afresh,  when  she  observed  in  his  eyes  the 
gathering  gloom  of  thought,  as  he  thrust  their  steely  gaze  into  her 
own. 

"  What  is  it,  dear  master  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Well,  every  perplexity  must  be  cleared  up  to-day.  One  re- 
mains—  that  is  Aleck,  the  brown,  lithe  fellow  that  hung  about  you 
some  time  ago.  What  of  him  ?  I  notice  his  face  wears  a  dogged 
sulkiness,  recently." 

"He  has  not  set  his  foot  within  my  cabin  gate  for  a  year.  His 
task  work  takes  him  far  from  here,  on  the  other  side  of  the  planta- 
tion.    I  have  no  regard  for  him.     Believe  me. 

*'  Still  he  waits  for  you,  and  does  not  give  up  the  pursuit.  He 
passes  me  with  the  customary  salutation  of  a  slave ;  but  the  haughti- 
ness of  his  step  and  eye  allies  him  to  the  Bey  of  Algiers  !  I  shall 
sell  him  —  take  him  to  Charleston,  to-morrow." 

"  Pull  the  bell  for  the  footman,  now.  Bid  him  bring  *  Brigand,' 
saddled,  to  the  door  for  me,  and  pony  '  Barefoot ',  for  himself. 
Have  all  arrangements  made,  during  my  absence,  as  you  know  I 
desire." 

The  long  gallop  of  "  Brigand's,"  and  the  patter  of  "  Barefoot's  " 
heels  passed  down  the  avenue. 

The  quarters  grew  noisy  with  the  evening  return  from  the  fields. 
Plumes  of  purple  smoke  lifted  in  turn  above  the  cabins  of  the  toil- 
ers. Dusky  figures,  in  short  homespun  skirts,  passed  to  and  fro, 
to  the  spring,  bearing  buckets  of  water  upon  their  heads.  The 
hand-mill  which  ground  the  evening  meal  from  the  corn  ration,  was 
turning  busily ;  and  while  the  crushed  grain  fell  from  the  whirling 
stones,  a  low',  sweet  pathos  of  improvised  song  fell  also  from  the 
lips  of  the  crushed  humanity  which  ground  there. 

Clear,  strong,  flute-like  notes  floated  to  the  listener's  ear,  from 
loirerers  by  the  river,  in  the  pines,  or  at  the  still   unfinished   task. 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  223 

The  red  sun  hung  over  the  western  woods,  and  poured  a  flush  of 
crimson  light  upon  Nightingale  Hall ;  gilding  its  pillars,  and  mak- 
ing its  windows  burning  jewels.  It  streamed  in  among  the  quar- 
ters, glorifying  the  cabins  with  a  like  impartial  touch.  His  level 
rays  also  lighted  up  the  lofty  oaken  bower  over  the  avenue,  and 
bronzed  the  lower  swaying  edges  of  the  moss  drapery  within.  Be- 
neath this  golden  fringe  which  trailed  over  Cleo's  hair  and  shoul- 
ders, she  passed  in  and  out  of  the  alternate  bars  of  sunshine  and 
shade,  formed  by  tree  trunks,  and  the  gilded  drive.  Her  thougts 
wore  the  same  coiileiir  de  rose  as  the  landscape.  Joy  gave  elasticity 
to  her  step,  and  elegance  to  her  carriage. 

When  she  called  Luke  and  Friday  to  make  the  removal  to  the 
"great  house,"  their  ragged  brimmed  hats  were  doffed,  and  their 
eyes  glistened.  With  a  deep  bow,  and  a  foot  drawn  back,  they 
replied, — 

"  Sartin,  for  sure  !      Muss  'bey  de  missus.      We   tote  'em,  right 

'wav !  " 

When  the  last  article  had  been  "  toted,"  and  Cleo  had  arranged 
all  at  the  cabin,  it  was  dark.  Sauntering  slowly  up  the  avenue, 
wrapt  in  delicious  musings,  a  tall  form  stepped  from  the  trees  to 
her  side.  The  agitated  girl  placed  her  hand  kindly  upon  the 
shoulder  of  her  spectre-like  visitor,  saying, — 

"  Aleck  !  Aleck  !  do  go  away  now  !     Leave  me  to  walk  on  alone 
For  your  own  sake, —  for  my  sake,  go  1 " 

"  I  will  not  go,  Miley  !  This  is  the  last  time  I  shall  meet  you  ! 
You  are  going  to  be  the  wife  of  Colonel  Ashland !  How  can  you 
do  this  ?  You  do  not  love  that  white  blood-hound,  that  makes 
your  race  dogs  and  slaves,  Miley  ?     Tell  me  no  ! " 

"  Aleck,  I  cannot  tell  you  no !  I  do  love  Colonel  Ashland. 
Before  my  Savior,  I  love  him  ;  and  before  Him  there  are  no  races, 
no  color,  no  rich,  no  poor,  no  slave,  no  free  !  Why  did  you  not 
forget  me,  Aleck  ?     I  told  you  long  ago  to  do  that !  " 

"  Why  don't  the  mocking  bird  forget  to  sing?  Does  the  magno- 
lia forget  to  blossom  ?  Why  don't  the  spring  forget  to  come  ?  I 
waited  for  3^ou,  Miley,  all  this  long  time  ;  for  I  thought  the  master 
would  throw  you  'way,  as  all  the  white  men  do  ;  and  then  I  might 
have  you  for  mine  at  last.  Oh  !  I  hate  these  whites  ;  with  their 
Bibles,  and  chains,  and  slavery !      Miley,  will  you  go   with  me  to- 


224  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

night?  Before  Brigand's  feet  come  thundering  back?  Ill  hide 
you  where  no  tracks  are  left  behind.  Say  you  hate  that  white 
devil,  and^o." 

"  Aleck,  I  cannot  stay  here,  it  is  not  safe  for  either  ;  but  I  must 
go  to  the  house.  If  the  colonel  should  turn  cruel  and  hard,  I 
should  love  him  still.     I  cannot  leave  him." 

"  Then  ask  him  to  sell  me,  as  far  as  winds  and  waves  will  carry 
me.  With  you,  I  could  bear  this  cursed  slavery, —  the  lash,  or  any- 
thing a  master  chose  to  put  on  me  ;  but  I  cannot  serve  ///;//  now. 
Do  one  thing  for  me  !  Beg  him  to  sell  me  ;  or,  some  day,  when 
he  think  himself  safe,  this  hand  may  throw  'way  his  life,  as  he  has 
mine." 

He  grasped  her  other  hand,  which  hung  by  her  side.  "Tell  me, 
Miley,  what  is  this  other  name  your  master  call  you  ? " 

"  He  changed  it  to  Cleopatra,  and  calls  me  Cleo." 

'*  Thank  our  Lord  that  your  own  name,  that  is  to  me  like  the 
song  of  the  Nonpariel,  will  not  be  on  his  lips.  Miley,  Miley,  that 
is  mine.  I'm  going!  Good  bye,  Miley,  till  we  meet  where  there 
is  no  parting." 

"  He,  the  strong  one  and  the  manly, 
With  the  vassal's  garb  and  hue, 
Holding  still  his  spirit's  birthright 
To  his  higher  nature  true," 

strode  away  between  the  live-oak  boles,  and  was  lost  in  the  masses 
of  shadow  beyond. 

"  God  is  love  !  "  saith  the  Evangel ;  "  and  our  world  of  woe  and  sin 
Is  made  light  and  happy  only,  when  a  Love  is  shining  in  1  " 

Cleo  moved  slowly  on  to  the  house.  The  lights  in  the  Hall,  and 
in  her  room,  burned,  bleared  and  dazed.  She  saw  them  through 
tears. 

Hattie  was  ready  for  the  morning's  departure  ;  and  by  the  ad- 
vice of  Mauma  Rose,  had  sought  her  bed.  The  colonel's  children 
also,  through  the  sweet  magnetism  of  her  voice,  and  hands,  had 
forgotten  the  day's  vexations,  and  were  reveling  in  gay,  butterfly 
dreams.  This  placid  state  of  affairs  was  not  wholly  fortuitous  ;  it 
was  the  result  of  a  whispered  request  of  Minnie's,  during  the  day, 


MIXNIE  IX  TEE   BAR  OF   LIGHT. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  225 

that  she  might  have  a  cosy  chat  with  her  trusty  confidant,  Mauma 
Rose,  that  evening,  as  it  was  her  last  day  at  the  Hall. 

Minnie  was  glad  when  the  master  and  footman  cleared  the 
avenue, —  they  would  have  the  house  to  themselves.  The  faithful 
old  servant  left  the  door  of  the  nursery  ajar,  and  took  her  low 
chair  upon  the  eastern  piazza.  Patches  of  star-lighted  heavens 
were  discernible  above  the  oleanders,  and  between  the  out-reaching 
arms  of  the  trees  beyond.  The  breezy  foliage  rippled  pleasantly 
over  the  senses  ;  the  calm  of  nature  distilled  into  the  human  soul, 
with  falling  dews. 

It  was  an  hour  when  the  sweetest  or  saddest  emotions,  rise  to 
their  highest  intensity, —  that  delicious  hour  when  the  flashes  of 
wild  romance,  and  longings  for  the  impossible,  which  flame  here 
and  there  among  our  busy  day-thoughts,  seem  to  settle  into  en- 
chanting reality, —  when  the  wo'es  and  wickedness  of  life  seem  to 
have  gone  down  with  the  sun,  and  all  that  is  pure  and  holy,  to 
have  been  left  around  us. 

Mauma  had  scarcely  composed  her  spirit,  and  white  apron,  as 
Minnie  glided  round  the  corner  of  the  piazza,  out  of  the  light  of 
the  south  side  into  the  darkness  of  the  eastern  verandah,  and 
crossed  the  bright  narrow  line  streaming  from  the  nursery  door. 
"Mauma  Rose,"  fell  from  her  lips,  like  overflowing  bubbles  from 
golden  chalices.  Their  iris  hues  of  delight  were  felt  by  the  aged 
hstener ;  and  tremulous  with  tenderness  was  the  reply, — 

"Here,  chile."  Silver  bells,  both  voices  — whose  blessed 
chimes  quivered  nearer  to  the  "  White  Throne  "  than  the  Sabbath 
peals  of  many  others. 

Minnie  dropped  down  upon  the  floor  at  mauma's  feet,  as  was 
her  wont  j  laying  her  beautiful  head  upon  her  own  arm,  thrown  over 
this  ever-welcoming  knee. 

"  What's  dis  I  smells,  darling  ?     Is  you  turn  into  rose-vine  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Maum  Rose !  I  told  the  gardener  I  wanted  two  of  the 
white  roses  that  master  brought  from  France.  He  refused,  but  I 
insisted.  He  said,  no  ;  but  I  shook  my  curls  at  him  and  said  jes  ; 
so  I  got  them.  When  he  gave  them  into  my  hand,  he  said,— 
'There!  don't  ask  me  again  ;  its  agin  de  rule.'  Then  I  shook  his 
old  shoulders,  and  told  him  I  was  going  where  I  should  have  more 
white   roses  than    are  in  his    care,  and    that  I    should  wear    them 


2  26  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

morning  and  evening,  without  the  asking.  You  see  I  wanted  one 
for  me,  and  one  for  Fred.  Oh,  I  am  so  happy  to-night.  Here 
they  are,  on  that  side.  This  is  almost  my  wedding  day.  To- 
morrow Fred  will  pay  Colonel  Ashland  for  me.  I  shall  go  away 
to  him.     I a7n  a  bride  to-night J^ 

"  Your  weddin'  day,  my  poor  birdie  ?  " 

Minnie's  head  rose  from  her  arm  as  quickly  as  a  young  fawn's, 
nestled  among  wood-laurels,  when  its  ear  catches  the  alarm  of  the 
hunter.  Her  eyes  searched  the  darkness  for  Mauma  Rose's  face 
and  expression. 

'•'What  is  in  your  voice,  mauma?  It  makes  the  chills  run  over 
me.  '  Poor  birdie.'  That  sounds  like  the  grieving  of  a  mourning 
dove.  Why  call  me  poor  birdie  ?  I  am  a  happy  bride  to-night. 
Give  me  joy,  Mauma  Rose,  give  me  joy." 

"  Mus'  say  what  I'se  tink,  else  don'  say  nottin'.  I  is  ole,  Minnie. 
I  is  seen  too  much,  my  day.  Rose  say  '  poor  birdie,'  cause 
Minnie's  in  de  net.  Dere's  no  weddin',  no  bride  for  such  like  we. 
Dese  white  lawyer  and  minister  make  de  law,  dat  we  is  all  concu- 
bine, at  dere  marcy.". 

Minnie  shook  back  her  curls,  as  if  they  tangled  thought  and 
sight ;  and  looked  up  to  the  starry  heavens.  They  were  to  her  the 
bespangled  canopy  of  her  bridal. 

"  Yes,  they  make  laws  against  our  marriage,  I  know,  mauma,  hut 
they  love  us  all  the  same.  Their  laws  cannot  prevent  the  natural 
exercise  of  their  affections,  and  they  do  not  desire  that.  I  am  not 
a  concubine  !  I  could  not  marry  Fred,  if  I  would  ;  and  the  God 
that  made  me,  knows  I  cannot  freeze  my  heart  against  him  if  I 
would.  The  Bible  says,  '  What  God  hath  joined  together,  let  not 
man  put  asunder.'  God  has  joined  us  together  by  the  love  we 
bear  each  other;  and  the  State  of  South  Carolina  puts  us  asunder, 
by  not  giving  us  the  power  to  live  together  in  a  lawful  manner. 
The  sin  is  not  on  my  part,  it  is  on  theirs.  Mauma  Rose,  the  at- 
tachment between  Fred  and  me  is  the  same  kind,  the  same  thing, 
as  the  love  they  call  holy  and  sacred,  among  the  white  people.  It 
is  the  same  which  is  paraded  before  the  altars  of  their  proud 
churches,  for  a  Divine  blessing.  It  is  the  same  love  which  wraps 
others  in  snowy  white  veils,  and  yet,  O  Lord  !  would  wrap  me  in  a 
mantle  of  shame." 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  227 

"  Hush,  honey  !  dere's  a  pain  come  in  3'-ou  young  heart  'ready. 
"We  can't  help  ou'self.  We  be  in  de  han'  of  de  Flistines.  Youse 
talk  like  de  preacher.  How  you  know  all  dis  ?  Where  you  fin'  dis 
larnin'? " 

"  Dear  mauma,  I  have  no  pain  in  my  heart.  Brides  cannot  have 
heartache,  when  their  lovers  are  true  like  mine.  The  law  makes 
me  a  chattel,  but  it  cannot  take  away  my  power  to  think  and  rea- 
son. That  silent  power,  hid  from  all  but  God,  man's  arm  cannot 
reach  ;  and  it  is  this  thinking  which  gives  me  confidence  and  hap- 
piness to-night.  Now  let  me  tell  you  one  more  secret.  I  know 
how  to  read.  There  is  where  I  stole  the  forbidden  fruit  of  South 
Carolina.  Mauma,  mauma,  I  have  read  half  the  books  in  mas- 
ter's library.  State  laws  and  all.  Oh  !  there's  a  way  for  a  chattel 
to  defy  tyrants. 

She  gathered  her  amber-hued  arms  around  the  neck  of  her  tried 
old  friend,  and  caroled  forth  another  low,  melodious  laugh. 

"  Fred  don't  dream  I  can  read,  but  he  knows  who  was  my  father, 
and  he  says  the  polish  and  refinement  of  my  conversation,  and  the 
choice  language,  was  inherited  from  my  father's  blood.  He  calls 
me,  '  Lady  Highborn.'  " 

"Don'  know  too  much.  Keep  the  book  larnin'  'tween  you  and 
de  good  Lord.  De  mens  mus  hab  de  larnin'  all  to  theirself,  an' 
de  women  mus  ask  dem  'bout  all  dey  'pears  to  know.  Does  ye 
hear,  honey?" 

"Yes,  Minnie  hears,  mauma ;  she  knows  how  to  follow  her  best 
of  counsel,  likewise."  Another  subdued  peal  of  bubbling  laughter. 
You  see,  Fred  likes  to  have  me  speak  correctly  what  I  attempt  to 
say,  and  to  call  flowers,  furniture  and  colors  by  their  proper  names. 
So  I  have  taken  pains  to  get  our  flowers  at  '  Nightingale  Hall,'  all 
right.  I  found  master's  list  of  their  names,  and  their  place  in  the 
garden.  These  roses  in  my  hair  are  the  French  Perles  de  VLnpera- 
trice, —  it  means,  'Pearls  of  the  Empress.'  The  gardener  called 
them  'Puddle  Peartris.'  How  I  laughed!"  —  and  the  warbling, 
merry  tones  poured  forth  again. 

Mauma's  rickety  voice  broke  out  in  merriment  with  hers.  This 
culmination  produced  unheard  of  hilarity. 

Minnie  arose  and  leaned  over  the  balustrade.  She  caught  her 
breath,  saying, — 


228  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  Oh  my !    the   stars  are  all  dancing,  and  I  have  laughed  till  I 

cried." 

"  Yes,  darlin',  let  us  hush,  or  de  chilen  will  hab  dere  eyes  open, 

and  —  " 

"  Spoil  our  tete-a-tete,  eh,  mauma  ?     That's  French.    It  grew  out  of 

my  French  blood." 

Then  she  bent  over  and  whispered  in  her  ear, — 

"What  a  wonderful   thing  blood  is,   eh  mauma.?     Oh!  I  must 

laugh  again.     No,  I'll  sing.     Hark !    this  came  from  one  of  our 

books. 

"  *  Oh,  gaily  in  my  glossy  hair 

I  twine  these  roses,  white  and  fair  ! 

My  lover,  in  his  dreams  to-night 

Shall  see  me  crowned  with  their  pale  light, 

I  am  his  bonnie  dark-eyed  bride  — 

The  morrow  leads  me  to  his  side. 

O  morning  haste,  my  life  to  bless  ! 

I'm  pining  for  his  dear  caress,'  " 

"  There,  mauma,  did  you  hear  ?  The  tune  came  from  my  own 
head." 

"  Dat's  de  mockin'  bird  tune." 

"  If  I  could  learn  to  sing,  Fred  says  I'd  sing  the  larks  to  sleep  ; 
but  I  know  he  loves  me  just  as  I  am.  Mauma,  give  me  your  hand. 
There,  pass  it  over  my  dress.  Don't  you  feel  the  gloss  ?  It's  blue 
satin ;  he  sent  it  to  me  to  make  up  and  wear  when  I  go  home  to 
him  ;  and  watch  now,  where  my  hand  goes  in  the  narrow  light. 
See  that  pearl  ring?  He  gave  me  that,  too.  I  call  it  my  engage- 
ment ring.  I've  kissed  it  twenty  times  to-night.  Go  on  tip-toe, 
Mauma  Rose  ;  open  the  nursery  door  just  far  enough  to  let  the 
light  upon  me." 

"  Yes,  honey.  I  'stracted  wid  you  now.  May  de  great  Marser 
keep  Marse  Fred  heart  t?'oo  to  dis  best  love.^^ 

She  opened  the  door  without  noise,  far  enough  for  the  radiant 
girl  to  step  into  the  bright  flood,  pouring  from  it.  The  tall,  graceful 
figure  —  the  costly  satin  drapery,  falling  in  burnished  folds,  like 
the  blue  sky  of  day  in  its  sun-gilded  glory  ;  the  shining  curls,  fall- 
ing over  her  shoulders  to  her  waist ;  the  two  white  imperial  roses 
among  them  j  the  deeply  flushed  cheeks  beneath  the  softening  film 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  220 

of  brown  ;  the  parted  lips,  revealing  polished,  snovvy  teeth  between  ; 
the  proud  bearing  which  was  her  birthright,  all  heightened  by  the 
rapt  ecstacy  which  beamed  on  every  feature,  made  up  such  a 
being  as  a  any  "  admirer  of  woman  "  might  have  led  exultantly  to 
the  nuptial  altar. 

The  Rev.  Fred  would  have  taken  that  hand  with  the  ring  of 
pearls  upon  it.  and  fulfilled  its  sacred  intent,  but  for  the  ban  of  his 
State's  Heaven-defying  laws,  and  the  conventional,  falsified  man- 
hood of  those  vauntingly  called  her  sons.  Well,  Minnie,  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  French  Consul,  the  American  slave-girl,  the  affiancee  of  her 
newmaster,  still  stood  in  the  tide  of  light ;  her  jet  eyebrows  not  so 
much  arched  as  clinging  to  the  Grecian  contour  of  the  forehead, 
and  her  eyes  shaded  from  the  sudden  glare,  by  heavy  silken  lashes! 
The  vivacity,  firmness,  sunny  languor,  sagacity,  grace  and  hauteur 
of  four  nations  centred  in  her.  Indian,  American,  African  and 
French  blood,  enriched  and  perfected  this  rare  human  blossom. 

Look  at  her  again,  dear  reader,  and  give  her  a  niche  in  memory  j 
for  Art,  which  styles  itself  divine,  is  still  servile.  Its  brush  has 
never  yet  caused  the  canvas  to  glow  with  such  loveliness.  The 
chains  of  Caste  yet  limit  its  transcendent  powers. 

Mauma  Rose  brought  her  hands  together  in  a  gesture  of  wonder 
and  admiration. 

Oh  I  you  is  beautiful!  I'se  seen  many  a  white  bride  — none  more 
gran'  an'  sweet,  dan  dis  one  I " 

Minnie  turned  out  of  the  brightness,  kissed  the  dear  old  with- 
ered cheek,  and  with  her  arm  around  her,  walked  to  the  balustrade. 
Still  embracing  her,  she  whispered, — 

"  Oh  !  you  don't  know  what  Fred  is  to  do  for  me  !  I  am  to  go 
into  the  house  at  '  Breezy  Bluff ',  and  have  the  entire  charge  of  Tt. 
The  old  butler  will  stay,  also  the  cook,  and  washer.  O  Mauma 
Rose  !  "  Again  her  caroling  voice  broke  into  a  warble  of  laughter. 
"Fred  says  he  will  sell  'Jake,*  that  handsome  young  footlnan; 
he  will  take  back  old  Sunday !  He  will  tell  the  old  servant  to  look 
after  me.     Ah  I  Fred  is  so  jealous  !  " 

"  Ob  course,  honey !  you  will  nebber  cross  him  wishes.  You 
mus'  try  keep  him  heart  wid  yoursef." 

"  Yes,  mauma ;  I  know  what  pleases  him.  I'll  do  that.  I'll  string 
my  hair  with  jasmines,  I'll  wear  the  dresses  he  likes  best,  1 11  sing! 


230  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

I  shall  lead  his  blessed  feet  over  roses.  You  know,  ma  chcre,  that 
my  father  was  the  French  consul.  I  have  high  blood,  and  our 
children,  Fred's  and  mine,  will  inherit  blue  blood — Carolina 
blood  J  " 

"  De  blood  of  all  people's  de  same  to  our  great  Maker.  De  blue 
blood  be  man's  dewice  !  You  soul  know  mo'  dan  we  poor  slabe. 
You  talk  'bove  we  all.  Soun'  like  de  white  missus,  dead  an'  gone. 
Come  back,  birdie,  once  mo'  in  de  silber  light !  De  angel  mus'  be 
hoi*  dere  breat',  to  look  on  you  dis  night !  " 

Stepping  forward,  Minnie  dropped  on  her  knees  in  the  light, 
saying,— 

"  Bless  me,  mauma  !     Bless  your  poor  birdie  !  " 

The  shriveled  hands  of  the  old  prophetess  folded  reverently 
above  white  roses  and  curls  —  the  turbaned  head  dropped  over  all. 
On  the  dewy  stillness  of  the  night,  this  petition  floated  up  among 
the  stars. 

"  De  Blessed  Marser  take  one  mo'  lamb  widin  him  lubbin  fold  I 
De  good  Lord  feed  dis  tender  blossom  wid  de  sunlight !  De  dear 
Jesus  keep  dis  precious  heart  in  de  holler  ob  Him  han' !  " 


CHAPTER  Xni. 

BOYS  1 " 
No  reply. 

''Boys  1 " 

Not  a  sound.  The  gray  light  of  dawn  straggled  down  the  steep, 
narrow  stairway,  boarded  on  both  sides,  and  leading  out  of  Farmer 
Buddinsrton's  kitchen.  The  farmer  stood  there  in  his  clean,  white 
shirt  sleeves,  holding  the  chamber  door  open  with  one  large,  sun- 
browned  hand.  His  bronzed  face  was  turned  upwards,  and 
shaded  by  a  straw  hat  as  bronzed  as  himself.  His  pantaloons  were 
rolled  up  above  bare  feet  and  ankles,  weather-browned,  also.  He 
had  been  out  in  the  dew,  beading  the  tall  grass;  out  to  the  old 
well-sweep,  drawing  tubs  of  water  for  the  early  washing,  already 
commenced  by  his  busy  wife.  Now,  he  had  just  come  in  from  the 
barn  —  from  the  care  of  his  horses  and  cattle. 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  23 1 

Not  a  shade  of  vexation  could  be  seen  on  his  face,  as  he  lis- 
tened for  a  response  ;  but  a  look  of  regretful  affection  settled  upon 
it,  in  the  dim  light  of  the  low,  half-story  window,  above.  He  called 
in  louder,  but  gentler  tones, — 

"  Thad !  Alfy  !  Come  !  Connecticut  boys  must  be  stirring  before 
sunrise  —  growing  late.  Texas!  Texas,  is  the  watchword  this 
week  !     Come,  my  men  !     Be  down  in  a  giffy." 

"  Texas  !  Texas  !  "  echoed  enthusiastically  from  above.  "  Yes, 
father  !  we're  coming  !  " 

"I'm  going  back  to  the  barn.  Come  out  there,  when  you're 
ready.     Don't  let  the  sun  beat  you,  and  get  there  first !  " 

There  was  much  scrambling,  a  good  deal  of  sleepy  funning,  sev- 
eral rounds  of  brotherly  pugilism,  and  boyish  laughter  ;  then  two 
pairs  of  bare  feet  bounded  down  stairs,  through  the  kitchen,  out  on 
the  dewy  greensward,  across  the  broad,  sandy  road  that  wound 
around  the  house,  and  over  the  hard,  narrow  path  to  the  barn. 
Both  entered  the  open  doors,  at  the  same  moment  —  one  in  a  som- 
ersault, the  other  in  a  long  jump  to  the  middle  of  the  floor. 

"  Father,  we're  here  !  What  shall  we  do  first  ?  We've  beat  the 
sun  ? " 

"  All  right !  go  clean  down  the  horses,  then  bring  in  the  pails  of 
milk  j  at  breakrast,  I  will  tell  you  the  rest.  Thad,  make  'em  shine. 
There's  a  lady  in  the  bargain  to-day  !" 

Mrs,  Buddington's  kitchen  was  an  inviting  place  for  breakfast. 
It  was  long  and  spacious,  looking  towards  the  west,  over  a  narrow 
brook  valley,  and  green  meadows,  to  neighboring  heights,  whose 
crown  of  orchards  leaned  agamst  the  sky.  The  well-scoured  floor 
was  neatly  sanded.  The  oaken  table,  white  as  rubbing  could  make 
it,  was  drawn  into  the  centre  of  the  room ;  with  the  usual  dishes 
for  the  need  of  a  farmer,  who  lived  ten  miles  from  the  town  market. 
There  were  slices  of  sweet  home-packed  pork,  fried  to  a  crispy 
brown,  a  pile  of  large  mealy  potatoes,  with  bursting  jackets,  fresh 
eggs,  a  plate  of  fried  apples,  and,  waiting  on  the  stone  hearth  by 
the  broad  fireplace,  a  nicely  covered  nappy  of  wheaten  doughnuts, 
hot,  crisp,  and  brown. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Buddington,  Thad  and  Alf,  seated  themselves  at 
table,  with  folded  hands,  and  bent  heads,  for  the  words  of  grace ; 
after  which,  conversation  on  the  morning's  plans  commenced.     Mr. 


232  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

Buddington  never  manifested  a  glum,  or  morose  spirit  at  home. 
He  was  genial  and  companionable  in  his  family.  His  boys  were 
encouraged  to  offer  frankly,  suggestions  on  all  subjects;  however 
wise,  crude,  or  boyish  their  ideas  might  be,  the  father  listened,  and 
kindly  corrected.  His  wife  was  not  a  drooping  flower,  crushed 
under  a  master's  foot,  speaking  only  when  it  might  be  mercifully 
raised.  She  shared  in  conversation  as  an  equal  partner  in  affairs, 
laughed  heartily,  pelted  her  husband  with  mother  wit ;  and  often 
remonstrated  on  certain  objectionable  courses  ;  throwing  her  re- 
proving glances  full  upon  his  own,  without  the  slightest  dash  of 
anger  on  his  part,  and  without  the  abused,  hang-dog  look  assumed 
by  so  many  men,  from  whom  the  wife  dares  to  differ. 

"  Thad,  this  is  the  morning  to  go  for  the  tailoress ;  but  I  find  the 
wagon  has  loosened  a  tire.  What  is  to  be  done  now .'' "  said  the 
father. 

"Likewise  the  roll  of  cloth  is  to  be  brought  from  the  pulling-mill, 
for  the  tailorers  to  cut  and  make  up,"  added  the  mother.  Her  iron 
goose,  and  press-board  are  to  be  brought,  also.  There's  a  riddle 
for  you  to  solve,  Thad,"  she  continued,  casting  a  sly  glance  at 
the  father. 

Alfy,  a  boy  not  yet  in  his  teens,  hurried  to  say, — 

"  You  can  ride  horseback,  Thad,  and  bring  the  cloth. 

Yes  !  I  can  take  a  long  sack  over  the  saddle,  put  the  cloth  on 
one  side,  and  the  goose  and  press-board  on  the  other  to  balance. 
Ned  won't  flare  up  at  that !  "  declared  Thad,  resting  a  hand  each 
side  of  his  plate,  and  holding  knife  and  fork  erect  in  the  air  ;  as  if 
to  dissect  the  quandary. 

"Bayonets  fixed!  'Gainst  the  rules!  Look  at  your  knife  and 
fork  I  "  said  Alf,  playfully  clashing  his  own  fork  against  them. 

"  The  cloth,  and  other  articles  are  all  right,"  said  the  farmer  ; 
"but  where  will  you  put  the  tailoress?  in  the  sack  too,  or  in  your 
pocket,  Thad  ? " 

This  caused  general  merriment.     Alfy  laughed  till  he  cried. 

"Here  is  a  better  way  ;  "  continued  the  father,  smiling.  "You 
ride 'Lone  Star'  and  lead  *Ned.'  Go  for  the  lad  v  first.  She  will  ride 
him  back,  and  you  will  ride  '  Ned,'  calling  at  the  mill,  on  your 
return.  The  first  part  of  the  arrangement  is  right,  as  you  pro- 
posed." 


White  may,  and  black  june.  233 

Alf  didn't  believe  she  could  ride  "Lone  Star;"  "for  he  always 
danced  sideways,  and  reared  up,  so." 

"  Oh,  yes,  Aliy,  she  can  ride  '  Lone  Star !  '  "  said  his  mother, 
smiling.  "  Filette  Snow  can  sit  upon  any  horse.  I  have  seen  her 
ride  her  brother's  stallion,  'Fire-fly,'  which  very  few  men  can  man- 
age, and  she  sat  him  as  easy  as  a  lark  in  a  tree." 

"I  saw  her  too,  mother  !  "  cried  Tbad.  "  She  looked  like  Queen 
Elizabeth,  reviewing  her  army,  in  my  English  history." 

"  True,  my  son,  she  did,"  said   Mr.  Buddington,  approvingly. 

Breakfast  over,  the  house  was  left  to  its  busy  mistress.  Alfy 
went  up  the  road,  betv/een  its  wide  borders  of  green,  singing  "Yan- 
kee Doodle  "  to  the  brindled  cows  which  he  followed  to  pasture. 
Thad  guided  '  Lone  Star,"  his  father  walking  beside  him,  to  the 
stone  at  the  kitchen  door,  to  say  '  good-bye'  to  his  mother,  and  to 
catch  her  look  of  pride,  as  he  rode  away.  She  came  at  his  call, 
her  sleeves  rolled  to  her  elbows  ;    and  exclaiming, — 

O  Thaddeus  the  Great,  on  his  charger  !  Look  out  for  those 
white  feet !     There's  mischief  in  them,  sometimes  !  " 

"  That's  so,  Thaddeus.  Keep  cool  my  boy ;  handle  him  gently. 
Don't  get  his  blood  up.     Good-morning." 

The  sun  tipped  the  tree  tops,  "  Lone  Star's  "  ears,  and  Thad's 
hat,  as  they  traveled  up  the  brown  road  between  the  velvet  strip 
of  turf,  fringed  with  alders  and  yellow  birches. 

In  due  time,  tramping  hoofs  drew  Mrs.  Buddington's  attention 
to  the  door.  She  was  just  in  time  to  see  the  proud  horse,  and  his 
female  rider  sweep  around  the  corner,  followed  close  at  her  heels 
by  Thad,  with  the  tailoress'  implements.  The  farmer's  wife 
clapped  her  hands,  and  showered  all  manner  of  appellations  upon 
the  rosy  rider  still  seated  on  the  mettlesome  animal. 

"Hey  day,  Gipsey  !  Mrs.  John  Gilpin!  take  a  turn  up  the  road. 
Let  me  see  you  ride,  you  winged  Mercury.  Dear  me  !  If  we  had 
a  match  for  '  Lone  Star  '  —  your  brother's  '  Fire-fly,  say  —  I'd 
mount,  and  we  two  would  scour  Connecticut's  hills  and  valleys, 
till  the  good  staid  people  should  think  the  witches  were  out.  Yes, 
and  they'd  tie  us  to  some  sacred  post  somewhere,  and  whip  us 
along  with  the  beer  barrels  that  work  on  Sunday." 

The  ludicrous  ideas  of  either  supposition,  caused  her  healthy 
echoing  laughter  to  ring  out  on  the  morning  air,  till  it  reached  the 


\ 


234  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

hill-orchards  over  the  narrow  brook  valley.  There,  the  apple- 
gatherers,  holding  the  golden,  red  and  russet  fruit  in  hand,  paused 
on  their  ladders  and  baskets,  to  look  over  to  Farmer  Buddington's 
yard,  where  Filette  was  still  wanted.  A  reflection  of  mirthful 
happiness  touched  their  faces.  They  v*^atched  the  group  around 
the  door ;  and  when  she  reined  her  horse  suddenly  round  to 
gratify  Mrs.  Buddington,  they  saw  him  rear  and  paw  the  air,  they 
saw  her  whip  come  down  smartly  on  his  shining  haunches,  saw 
him  shake  his  mane  and  come  down  to  his  work,  galloping  around 
the  corner  with  her  little  page,  Thad,  at  her  heels.  Apples 
dropped  ;    men,  women,  girls  and  boys,  clapped  hands  lustily. 

They  waited  for  her  return  ;  for  country  neighbors  divine  their 
neighbor's  movements.  They  saw  her  darting  like  a  shuttle, 
between  the  alders  and  birches,  north  of  the  house,  and  then  his 
curved  neck  and  white  feet  came  slowly  back  round  the  house  to 
the  step-stone.  Filette  sprang  to  the  ground.  The  fruit-gatherers 
cheered  her  again,  and  the  unbroken  air  waves  brought  the  sound 
to  the  house.  Filette  took  off  her  bonnet,  and  swung  it  by  the 
strings.  Mrs.  Buddington  made  a  signal  flag  of  her  apron,  and 
swung  it  aloft.  Thad  emptied  the  sack,  and  threw  it  above  his 
head.  Farmer  Buddington  arrived  just  in  time,  from  an  adjoining 
potato  field,  to  join  the  pleasant  pantomime.  He  sent  the  lus- 
cious roots  which  he  bad  brought  for  dinner,  rolling  on  the 
ground,  and  threw  the  basket  to  the  house-eaves,  several  times. 
Wherefore,  the  apples  on  the  hill,  contrary  to  the  philosophy  of 
Sir  Isaac  Newton,  gravitated  upwards  against  the  sky,  in  crimson 
and  yellow  gleams,  till  the  party  entered  the  kitchen  door. 

Filette  caught  up  the  roll  of  cloth,  and  entered  the  north 
room,  where  a  table  was  already  cleared  for  cutting.  The 
farmer  followed,  to  be  measured  for  a  whole  suit,  to  be  finished 
"  this  week."     He  said, — 

"  Can  you  accomplish  it  ? " 

"Of  course  she  can  with  my  help  !"  said  his  wife.  "We  have 
worked  together  before.  My  washing  is  long  ago  on  the  line,  and 
my  cupboards  are  full  of  pies  and  cakes." 

"  You  are  a  '  gude  wife,'  my  ain  dearie,  and  I  must  set  you  on  a 
richer  soil  than  these  hard  Connecticut  lands.  So  you  see,  Miss 
Snow,"  turning  to  the  tailoress,  "  I  am  off  for  Texas  on  Monday, 


WHITE   MAY,   AND      BLACK  JUNE.  235 

one  week  from  this  morning.  I  must  have  these  clothes  to  wear. 
Now  I  shall  be  over  on  the  next  field,  at  work  j  when  there  is 
any  trying  on  to  do,  wife,  call  me." 

Then  began  in  earnest  the  sponging,  cutting,  basting  and  press- 
ing. The  hot  iron  goose  hissed  and  fizzed  along  the  wet  seams 
on  the  press-board.  Filette  handled  it  with  the  same  dexterity  as 
she  had  subdued  the  plunging,  foaming  "  Lone  Star."  It  was  a 
pleasant  week  for  the  two  women.  There  were  no  peevish  repin- 
ings  at  the  failure  of  romantic  hopes,  no  tearful  aspirations  after 
impossibilities.  Both  accepted  the  conditions  of  life.  The  old 
farm-house  was  full  of  mirthful  industry,  health  and  common 
sense. 

When  the  work  was  cut  and  planned,  there  was  time  for  other 
thoughts.     Filette  said  to  Mrs.  Buddington, — 

"  So  your  husband  starts  for  Texas  soon  ? 

"  Next  Monday." 

"  Will  he  go  alone  ?  " 

"  No,  his  youngest  brother,  George  Buddington,  will  accompany 
him.  He  resides  in  Cloudspire,  Massachusetts  ;  and  will  arrive 
here  Saturday  night." 

"Is  It  your  wish  to  leave  New  England,  and  settle  in  that  new 
country  ? " 

"Not  at  all,  personally;  but  I  have  the  interests  of  others  in 
keeping,  and  what  is  for  their  benefit,  should  be  my  pleasure.  My 
husband  has  received  glowing  accounts  of  the  cheapness  of  land, 
and  of  the  inviting  soil  and  climate  of  Texas.  His  lungs  are  too 
delicate  for  our  severe  winters  also.  Then  he  has  the  future 
welfare  of  our  sons  in  prospect.  He  thinks  that  after  a  life  of 
toil  in  New  England  by  all  of  us,  he  shall  have  very  little  to 
leave  ihem,  but  the  same  entailed  life  of  hardship  as  his  own. 

"  Then  he  will  buy  and  hold  slaves,  of  course .'' " 

"  I  expect  that  is  one  object.  They  are  cheap  now  ;  but  when- 
ever Texas  is  annexed  to  the  States,  they  will  increase  fifty  per 
cent.  Slavery  has  been  my  great  objection  to  going.  I  do  not 
believe  in  enslaving  human  beings." 

"Neither  do  I,"  replied  Filette,  looking  up  from  a  coat  sleeve, 
into  which  she  was  fitting  the  lining.  I  could  never  wrest  the 
hard  earnings  of   others,  to    surround    myself   with  comEort,   and 


236  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK  JUNE. 

leave   the    toilers    in    destitution.     Neither  could  I  buy  and    sell 
my  fellow-creatures,  the  images  of  God,  as  so  much  merchandise." 

"  Do  you  think  a  Southerner  would  acknowledge  that  a  negro 
was  the  image  of  God  ?  You  would  fall  out  in  the  premises,  at 
the  very  first  start." 

"  Very  well,  according  to  their  own  theology,  none  but  the 
images  of  God  can  have  souls  to  save,  and  they  evidently  think 
their  slaves  are  possessed  of  that  imperishable  article  ;  for  they 
are  beginning  to  show  them  a  way  to  Heaven  by  various  teachings 
and  preachings." 

"  Filette,  you  should  hear  our  minister  expatiate  on  slavery. 
He  says  the  African  race  was  predestinated  to  Slavery,  from  the 
foundation  of  the  world.  He  advises  Air.  Buddington  to  go  to 
Texas,  take  up  land,  and  buy  slaves.  He  says  they  are  as  much 
articles  of  commerce  as  any  other  means  of  wealth." 

"  I  have  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  new  minister."  She  said 
this  with  a  short,  knowing  nod  of  the  head.  "  I  have  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Rev.  Augustus  Johns,  from  Hartford.  I  sewed  at 
the  parsonage  last  week.  His  language  and  manners  pointed  to  my 
social  inferiority.  He  may  preach  Christ  crucified,  but  he  cannot 
preach  to  me  Christ  the  living  Exemplar.  Its  my  opinion  he 
would  m.ake  a  good  slave-holder,  himself,  and  handle  the  lash  with 
a  relish." 

"  Would  you  express  yourself  so  freely  everywhere  ? "  laughingly 
questioned  Mrs.  Buddington. 

"Certainly,  if  called  for.  False  ambassadors  of  Him  who  was 
a  pattern  in  all  that  is  just  and  humane,  are  less  to  be  revered  than 
truth  is  to  be  reverenced.  His  advice  on  emigration  will  prove  a 
snare,  I  think.  '  If  the  blind  lead  the  blind,  both  will  fall  into  the 
ditch.'  I  am  not  learned,  but  I  must  yield  to  the  dictates  of  com- 
mon sense,  and  the  plain  teachings  of  the  simple  life  of  our  Savior, 
so  plain,  that  a  wayfarer,  '  though  a  fool,  need  not  err  therein.'  " 

"  I  sometimes  think  within  myself,"  said  Mrs.  Buddington,  "  that 
the  church  '  worship  they  know  not  what.'  Not  God,  the  omnipo- 
tent, omniscient  and  omnipresent  Deity,  as  a  Being  to  be  much 
loved  or  much  feared  ;  but  in  His  stead,  they  substitute  a  round  of 
rites  and  mysticisms,  which  only  stultify  our  moral  natures." 

"Those  thoughts  appear  to  me  wise.     And  further,   what  is   not 


WHITE   MAY,    AJ\D    BLACK   JUNE.  237 

already  obscure,  they  either  forget,  mystify  or  reverse.  Here  is 
this  straightforward  command,  '  sell  all  thou  hast,  and  give  to  the 
poor  ;'  which  does  not  convey  the  idea  that  we  sell  the  bodies  and 
souls  of  the  poor,  themselves  —  that  we  shall  auction  them  to  the 
highest  bidder,  and  put  the  price  in  our  own  pockets.  Yet  that 
is  the  construction  of  the  slave-holder,  and  of  everyone  who  upholds 
him." 

Thus  the  day  passed  in  pleasant  dinners  and  teas,  light  discus- 
sions, neighbor's  evening  calls,  after  the  day's  work  was  done  ;  and 
in  talking  over  the  journey  and  future  prospects.  All  agreed  that 
the  farmer's  life  was  a  hard  one  ;  but  many  preferred  its  honest 
ways  to  the  necessary  cruelty  attached  to  a  slave-master's  leisure. 

The  suit  of  clothes  was  finished  on  Saturday,  by  sunset. 
Filette  consented  to  remain  over  Sunday,  to  help  on  Mrs.  Budding- 
ton  in  preparations  for  her  husband's  departure  ;  to  work  on  the 
boj's'  clothes  the  next  week,  as  well  as  to  relieve  the  approaching 
loneliness. 

Saturday  afternoon.  Squire  George  Buddington  arrived  from 
Cloudspire.  Young,  handsome  in  figure,  well  dressed,  with  the 
elasticity  of  hope  and  anticipation  apparent  in  word  and  motion  ; 
he  inspired  the  household  with  new  faith  in  the  venture,  and  new 
vigor  in  its  prosecution.  On  Sunday  evening,  which  in  those  days 
was  the  beginning  of  the  working  week,  a  company  of  friends,  includ- 
ing farmers  of  the  vicinity  and  their  sons,  assembled  by  invitation, 
to  get  new  views  of  the  settlement  of  Texas  ;  as  George  Budding- 
ton  had  correspondence  on  the  subject,  and  was  to  present  infor- 
mation at  that  time. 

They  gathered  in  the  large  kitchen.  The  floor  had  been  recently 
sanded  ;  the  pleasant  fire  fizzed  and  crackled  in  the  capacious  fire- 
place. The  well-scoured  oaken  chairs  were  soon  filled  ;  others, 
smarter  in  paint  and  age,  were  brought  in  from  various  rooms. 
Men  of  bronzed  faces  were  they  all.  Old  and  young  were  mostly 
clad  in  serviceable  home-made  cloth,  spun  and  woven  by  their 
wives  and  daughters.  Their  hands  were  hard  and  calloused,  homely 
to  the  eye,  but  true  and  kindly  to  the  grasp.  There  were  heads  of 
gray,  and  shoulders  stooped  with  labor  ;  chestnut  locks,  and  figures 
of  young,  athletic  strength.  There  were  breasts  enclosing  the  finest 
sympathies  of  man's  nature  ;  men  who  never  goaded  an  ox  without 


238  WHITE    MAY,    AND    ELACK   JUNE. 

pain,  and  from  whose  hands  their  well-fed  horses  never  felt  a 
stripe  ;  men  who,  if  suddenly  brought  face  to  face  with  the  terrible 
scourging  of  the  South,  would  have  been  appalled,  and  in  a  frenzy 
of  compassion  for  the  victim,  would  have  hurled  the  sanguinary 
scourger  to  the  stunning  embrace  of  mother  Earth.  Yet  these 
same  men,  in  the  determined  equanimity  of  a  stern  patriotism, 
upheld  the  Constitution  and  its  nest-egg,  slavery. 

They  regarded  the  Constitution  as  the  charter  of  American  free- 
dom ;  the  sacred  instrument  freeing  them  from  oppressive  royal 
edicts,  and  too  dearly  purchased  in  the  Revolutionary  struggle  to 
admit  confession  of  a  blemish  or  suspicion  of  a  fault.  They 
looked  upon  slavery  as  indigenous  in  cotton-growing  districts  — 
sprouting  into  hydra-headed  life  with  the  germs  of  the  cotton  seeds 

—  and  having  a  duration  co-existent  with  the  cultivation  ot  that 
staple. 

"I  expect  you  will  have  warm  weather  there,  without  snow  or 
ice,"  said  one  of  them  addressing  farmer  Buddington. 

"  Yes.  Crops  are  cultivated  there  all  the  year  round,  you  might 
say,  there  is  no  winter.  Our  grains  grow  there,  besides  many 
tropical  fruits." 

'•  I  believe  Mexico  w^as  loth  to  part  with  Texas  for  any  price,  " 
said  another ;  "  but  the  Southerners  are  in  earnest,  and  when 
Mexico  wouldn't  sell,  they  went  over  the  border  with  their  families 
and  slaves,  and  set  up  an  independent  State  of  their  own." 

"  The  South  have  made  a  splendid  success,  replied  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Johns,  who  had  just  dropped  in.  "  Since  the  '  Boundary  Treaty' 
with  Spain  in  18 19,  which  made  the  Sabine  river  the  western  limit 
of  Louisiana;  and  since  the  'Missouri  Compromise'  of  1820,  pro- 
hibiting slavery  north  of  latitude  thirty-six  degrees,  thirty  minutes, 
there   was  very  little  land  left  for  the  formation  of  new  slave  states 

—  not  enough  for  more  than  two  or  three.  With  only  this  narrow 
area  left  to  it,  slavery  w^ould  be  doomed.  In  1829,  Mr.  Poinsett,  in 
behalf  of  our  government,  offered  Mexico  five  millions  of  purchase 
money.  She  refused.  He  then  proposed  to  loan  Mexico  ten  mil- 
lions, upon  the  pawning  of  Texas  till  repaid.  He  knew  well  that 
Texas  once  pawned,  it  was  ours ;  for  in  the  interim,  the  country 
would  have  been  filled  with  Anglo-Americans  and  slaves,  and  we 
could  have  held  it  afterwards,  in  any  event.     That  loan  was  a  fail- 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  239 

ure.  Next,  he  made  efforts  to  obtain  from  the  Mexican  govern- 
ment, a  stipulation  to  return  fugitive  slaves ;  for,  you  know 
gentlemen,  Mexico  freed  all  her  slaves  in  1829.  This  was  a 
failure  also.  However,  the  South  was  resolved  to  possess  Texas. 
Numerous  emigrants  have  settled  upon  the  lands,  carried  their 
slaves,  and  obtained  control  of  the  Legislature  by  a  separation  from 
Coahuila.  They  have  declared  their  independence,  so  that  our 
friends  here,  Mr.  Buddington  and  brother,  are  leaving  their  own 
country  for  a  foreien  government." 

"  I  saw  by  the  papers,"  said  another,  "  that  of  the  fifty-seven 
signers  of  this  Declaration  of  Independence,  fifty  were  Southerners, 
emigrants  from  the  Soutliern  States,  and  only  three  were  native 
Mexicans,  and  these  three  were  greatly  interested  in  Texan  land 
speculations,  with  companions  in  New  York." 

"  I  recollect  that,  likewise,"  replied  the  clergyman  ;  "  and  when 
we  of  the  North  see  men  so  resolute  for  their  own  interests,  it  cer- 
tainly devolves  upon  us  to  render  them  all  the  aid  in  our  power. 
The  bond  of  Union  must  be  kept  bright  by  these  fraternal  acts. 
True,  her  independence  is  gained  and  acknowledged  by  the  United 
States ;  but  every  Northen  emigrant  will  swell  the  vote  for  annexa- 
tion." 

"Annexation  has  been  already  proposed  to  our  Government," 
replied  Squire  Buddington  ;  "  and  although  the  proposition  seems 
not  to  have  been  favorably  received  at  Washington,  we  all  under- 
stand that  annexation  is  the  Texan  ulti?7tatu7n.  As  to  the  ability 
of  Texas  to  maintain  her  assumed  independence,  there  is  no  doubt 
about  secret  assistance  being  rendered  from  the  States,  in  arms, 
ammunition  and  men.  Our  Government  would  wink  at  such  clan- 
destine support  to  Texas,  and  bid  it  God  speed." 

"  I  understand,"  said  the  Rev.  Johns,  "  if  the  Texans  need  pro- 
tection, they  will  have  it.  They  had  it  before  their  independence, 
which  was  gained  by  contributions  and  enlistments  in  the  States. 
There  was  bloody  work  there  then,  between  Houston  and  Santa 
Anna." 

A  young  man,  sitting  silently  by  himself  and  leaning  awkwardly 
upon  the  white  oaken  table,  had  fixed  his  admiring  eyes  at  the  first 
entrance,  upon  the  younger  Buddington  and  his  fine  broadcloth. 
After  plunging  his  fingers  several  times  into  the  short,  sandy  curls 


240  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

about  his  ears,  and  impatiently  throwing  one  knee  over  the  other, 
offered  a  question  to  his  notice. 

"  Will  you  inform  me,  sir,  what  first  called  your  attention  to  a 
removal  to  that  country  .'*  " 

"  With  pleasure.  jNIy  attention  was  called  to  Texas,  by  a  Cloud- 
spire  friend  in  my  own  State,  who  has  become  a  citizen  of  South 
Carolina.  Then,  my  brother  here,  has  had  an  uphill  course  since  his 
marriage.  The  mortgage  still  rests  upon  his  farm  ;  some  change 
is  necessary  for  him.  I  am  young,  and  desire  to  invest  where 
something  more  than  New  England  profit  will  accrue.  This  friend, 
Mr.  Steele,  advised  Texas,  and  sent  papers  containing  Southern 
views." 

"  Would  you  read  some  of  those  views,  if  you  have  the  papers 
with  you  ?  "  asked  a  tall,  spare,  deep-voiced  man  by  the  stairway. 

George  brought  forward  a  bundle  of  Southern  papers,  and  read 
aloud  numerous  extracts.  He  remarked,  also,  that  Benton  of  Mis- 
souri, a  few  years  ago,  over  the  signature  of  "  Americanus,"  wrote  a 
series  of  essays  on  the  importance  of  Texas,  and  the  necessity  of 
its  acquisition.  He  advocated  and  enlarged  upon  Benton's  asser- 
tion, that  "  one  of  the  evils  resulting  from  the  retrocession  of  that 
country  to  Mexico,  is  that  it  brings  a  non-slave-holding  empire  in 
juxtaposition  with  the  slave-holding  South." 

He  selected  a  Baltimore  paper,  commenting  on  the  essays  of 
'*  Americanus,"  and  read, — 

"  One  of  the  reasons  he  assigns  for  the  purchase  of  Texas  is, 
that  five  or  six  more  slave-holding  States  may  thus  be  added  to  the 
Union.  Indeed,  he  goes  farther  than  this  in  one  of  his  calculations, 
and  estimates  that  nine  more  states  as  large  as  Kentucky,  may  be 
formed  within  the  limits  of  that  province." 

"  You  perceive,  gentlemen,"  explained  the  clergyman,  "  that 
Benton's  first  calculation  w^ould  give  the  South  twelve  more  sena- 
tors ;  and  in  case  Texas  should  be  cut  into  nine  States,  eighteen 
more  senators.  This  course  is  absolutely  necessary,  according  to 
Calhoun's  theory,  '  to  preserve  the  balance  of  power '  to  the  South  ; 
that  our  national  legislation  may  not  be  one-sided  and  thus  dis- 
member the  Union  ;  for  the  maintenance  of  the  Union  gentlemen," 
with  an  emphatic  gesture  of  his  arm,  "  is  the  only  safety  of  our 
Republic." 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  24I 

*'  It  is  also  necessary  on  our  part,"  remarked  the  bass  voice  of 
the  first  speaker,  "  to  resist  the  encroachments  of  the  abolition 
party,  for  one  section  of  our  country  should  not  override  the 
other." 

"Never  was  a  truer  word  spoken," said  Squire  Buddington  ;  "but 
my  brother  James  and  I  must  leave  you  Northern  men  to  deal  with 
the  villanous  abolitionists.  We  are  going  to  another  country,  where 
Judge  Lynch  hangs  them  to  the  nearest  tree.  We  shall  labor  for  a 
larger  representation  of  Southern  interests  in  the  Senate,  by  annex- 
ation. Mr.  Johns,"  turning  to  the  clergyman,  "your  opinions  coin- 
cide exactly  with  the  sentiments  of  a  Charleston  paper  in  the 
package  sent  me  by  Mr.  Steele." 

He  selected  it,  strode  to  the  fireplace,  and  read  by  the  light  of 
two  candles  on  the  the  high  mantel, — 

"The  acquisition  of  the  vast  territory  of  Texas,  is  denominated, 
*an  enterprise  which  could  not  fail  to  exercise  an  important  and 
favorable  influence  upon  the  future  destinies  of  the  South,  by  in- 
creasing the  votes  of  the  slave-holding  States  in  the  United  States 
Senate.' " 

Flattered  by  this  distinguished  coincidence,  the  ecclesiastical 
countenance  brightened  ;  and  he  proceeded  further  to  air,  pom- 
pously, his  intimate  study  of  Texan  affairs. 

"  Squire  Buddington,  you  will  not  be  disgusted  by  the  poverty, 
ignorance,  and  crime  of  free  negroes  in  your  adopted  residence, 
which  I  should  consider  an  agreeable  relief.  The  Texan  Constitu- 
tion dooms  to  perpetual  bondage,  'every  negro,  and  every  mulatto, 
now,  or  in  future,  remaining  on  the  soil ! '  The  friendly  offices  of 
no  Colonization  society  will  be  needed  there,  to  remove  such  nui- 
sances from  the  country  !  " 

Farmer  Walton,  who  owned  a  small  number  of  acres  in  the  west 
part  of  the  town,  and  who  sat  leaned  in  his  chair  against  the  jamb, 
with  gravely-folded  arms,  here  threw  more  light  upon  this  deter- 
mined seizure  of  adjacent  territory  from  a  friendly  power,  by  pre- 
senting one  more  Southern  motive  of  self  interest.  lie  observed 
that  j\Ir.  Gholson  of  the  Virginia  legislature  in  1832,  announced, 
"  that  the  acquisition  of  Texas  would  raise  the  value  of  slaves  fifty 
per  cent  at  least !  " 

"  That  was  natural,"  replied  Mr.  Johns.     "  Virginia  is   a  slave- 


242  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

breeding  state,  and  these  new  cotton  and  cane  fields  open  a  fine 
market  for  her  peculiar  productions." 

"The  Southern  States  are  a  unit,  in  whatever  policy  they  pro- 
pose !  "  said  the  deep  voice  by  the  stairway. 

The  young  man  reclining  on  the  oaken  table  again  ran  his 
fingers  through  his  sandy  curls  ;  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  squire 
while  speaking.  He  thought  it  an  unsafe  experiment  for  a  married 
man  to  settle  among  such  a  mixed  population  of  Southerners  — 
negroes,  Mexicans  and  Indians.  He  thought  young-married  women 
would  need  constant  protection,  amid  such  lawlessness  !  His  dear 
Jane  Sophy,  whom  he  had  just  ruthlessly  plucked  from  a  neighbor- 
ing family,  and  made  his  own  especial  property,  troubled  his  mind. 
He  was  thinking  how  pitifully  she  looked  after  him,  at  his   sunset 

parting. 

James  Buddington,  who  understood  matters,  knowingly  an- 
swered,— 

"You  see,  Tim,  we  don't  take  our  wives  there.  George  has  none, 
and  mine  must  stay  with  the  boys.  But  you  come  out  to  Texas 
when  I  get  my  farm  of  two  or  three  thousand  acres.  I"ll  sell  you 
a  square  close  to  my  house,  to  build  a  ranch  for  Jane  Sophy,  if 
you'll  bring  her  along  !  " 

These  rays  from  a  dark  lantern  illuminated  Tim's  suggestion. 
The  whole  company  indulged  in  a  vociferous  round  of  pleasantries. 

"There's  no  trouble,"  said  a  short,  square-built  member  of  the 
church,  by  the  buttery  door  ;  "  no  trouble,  if  when  you  go  among  the 
Romans,  you  do  as  the  Romans  do  1  Them  slave-holders  are  fiery 
fellers,  but  don't  hurt  anybody  that  thinks  as  they  do." 

"  Right !  There  can  be  no  cause  of  apprehension,  when  one  fol- 
lows that  aphorism,"  said  the  clergyman,  walking  stifHy  up  and 
down  the  sanded  floor ;  meanwhile  slowly  buttoning  up  his  fine 
black  coat.  "  Tim  !  better  sell  out  here,  and  migrate  \vith  these 
gentlemen.  Buy  slaves,  advocate  '  Southern  Rights,'  help  hang  the 
abolitionists,  and  your  domestic  happiness  will  be  as  safe  in  Texas, 
as  it  would  be  in  the  snows  of  Lapland  1  " 

Thad  and  Alf  brought  tumblers,  and  the  pitcher  of  cider.  The 
Rev.  Mr.  Johns  proposed  prayer  before  parting  ;  in  which  brill- 
iant effort  he  took  occasion  to  inform  the  Deity  that  He  had 
made  a  world  full  of  sinners,  for  His  own  glory  ;   that  He  had  ex- 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  243 

alted  this  Nation ;  that  the  inexpressible  beauty  of  American 
Freedom  mio^ht  be  an  exemplar  to  the  extremes  of  the  earth.  He 
finally  demanded  of  Divine  favor,  the  perpetuity  of  its  Institutions 
—  a  signal  blessing  on  the  present  national  effort,  to  extend  our 
peculiar  civilizing  influences.  Especially  did  he  implore  God's 
blessing  to  attend  the  steps  of  His  two  servants,  who,  in  the  jour- 
ney about  to  be  undertaken,  would  further  cement  the  fraternal 
bond  of  union  between  distant  sections.  He  closed  by  invoking 
rich  lands,  flocks  and  herds,  abundant  crops,  and  increasing  pros- 
perity to  all  within  their  tropical  gates. 

They  gathered  around  Farmer  Buddington,  proffered  good  wishes 
and  grave  good-byes,— for  he  was  beloved  by  his  neighbors.  The 
smoke  of  his  chimney  was  a  pleasant  landmark  in  their  busy 
goings  to  and  fro. 

One  shook  his  hand,  and  said  encouragingly, — 

"  Well,  neighbor,  I  suppose  you  will  be  picking  strawberries 
next  January,  when  I  am  shovelHng  snow-drifts  in  great-coat  and 
mittens." 

"And  digging  potatoes  in  February,"  added  another  close  by. 

The  short,  broad-shouldered  Roman  shook  hands  roughly,  and 
corrected  the  others. 

"  Buddington  will  not  dig  potatoes  any  more,  nor  pick  straw- 
berries, nor  reap  in  the  hot  sun.  His  negroes  will  do  all  that, 
while  he  will  sit  in  the  shade  of  his  orange  groves." 

Rev.  Mr.  Johns,  who  had  been  speaking  with  the  ladies,  joined 
them. 

"His  cattle  will  in  a  few  years  be  counted  by  hundreds.  Like 
Isaac,  he  will  have  'possession  of  flocks,  possession  of  herds,  and 
great  store  of  servants.'  He  will  not  be  forced  to  arise  in  icy 
mornings,  before  dawn,  to  feed  the  cattle  in  their  stalls.  They 
will  run  untended,  over  his  broad  grassy  plains,  all  the  year 
round  ! " 

There  was  a  little  side  scene.  The  sandy  curls  were  very  near 
the  younger  Buddington.  He  assured  the  latter,  that  in  a  short 
time  he  should  join  him.     Says  he, — 

"I  am  married  now,  and  if  Jane  Sophy  finds  it  agreeable  to  emi- 
grate, I  shall  emigrate.  I  am  glad  to  make  your  acquaintance  ; 
for  I  should  not  like  to  set  her  down  in  an  unprotected  home." 


244  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Rev.  Mr.  Johns  shook  hands  last ;  bidding  them  remember, — 

*'  We  all  have  one  Countr)-,  one  Constitution,  one  God."  Suc- 
cessively the  wagons  rattled  away. 

Candles  glided  about  Farmer  Buddington's  north  and  south 
room,  long  before  day.  One  medium-sized  seal-skin  trunk  was 
sufficient  for  both ;  moreover,  it  could  be  conveniently  carried 
between  them,  in  changing  from  stage-coaches  to  boats,  or  other 
conveyances. 

While  sitting  at  the  table  for  the  last  time,  the  husband  and 
father  gave  some  directions,  yet  unsaid. 

"  Drive  the  cows  down  the  hill,  to  the  rowen  meadow,  to-morrow, 
Alfy.  Dig  the  potatoes  faithfully,  boys.  Take  good  heed  of  aM 
mother's  command's.  Be  kind  to  Ned,  feed  him  well,  and  treat 
him  well.  Uncle  George  will  ride  '  Lone  Star  '  to  town,  to  day, 
and  leave  him.  He  is  sold.  You  boys  will  ride  with  me  in  the 
wagon  that  carries  the  trunk  to  the  Red  Tavern ;  the  stage  stops 
there." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Buddington  tasted  very  little  of  that  morning's 
repast.  They  exchanged  no  sentimentality.  Each  heart  felt  the 
pain  of  the  other,  and  silently  bore  its  own.  New  thoughts,  and 
strange,  flitted  in  and  out  of  Filette's  mind  all  that  day;  thoughts 
not  quite  in  accord  with  the  general  sadness.  A  long  lingering 
clasp  of  a  hand,  thrilled  her  yet.  A  pair  of  hazel  eyes  haunted 
her  in  the  dairy,  in  the  kitchen,  in  the  orchard.  If  she  turned 
her  glance  up  the  lonely,  green-bordered  road,  a  young,  handsome 
horseman  seemed  vanishing  from  sight, —  seemed  turning  back 
to  her,  like  a  sweet  memory,  and  waving  a  phantom  adieu. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  toilet  of  the  octaroon  was  receiving  the  finishing  touches 
from  her  own  hands.  She  was  yet  alone.  A  soft  rustle 
filled  the  pretty  apartment,  as  she  turned  this  way  and  that,  in 
order  to  bring  every  part  of  her  gauzy  dress  under  inspection,  in 
the  deep,  oval  mirrors ;  and  as  she  turned  to  the  open  boxes 
about  j  choosing  a  trinket  here,  a  jewel  there,  a  necklace,  and   a 


WHITE    MAY,    AND   BLACK   JUNE.  245 

bracelet,  to  fasten  about  her  neck,  or  arms,  as  the  slippered  feet 
stole  across  the  carjDet  for  a  spray  of  pinken  roses  and  buds,  to 
fasten  in  the  Grecian  fall  of  curls,  gathered  at  the  back  of  her 
head,  and  as  she  parted  the  tangled  profusion  about   her  forehead. 

The  last  effort  was  upon  the  broad,  pink  sash,  that  girdled  her 
waist,  and  fell  in  waves  nearly  to  her  feet.  Then  flowers,  jewels 
and  laces  were  gathered  quickly  into  their  repositories,  and  a 
general  survey  of  the  room  was  taken,  a  few  rapid  steps,  a  few 
subtle  motions  of  her  hands  about  the  curtains,  vases  and  fresh- 
cut  flowers,  and  she  dropped  into  a  velvet  arm-chair,  as  if  awaiting 
the  coming  of  another. 

Not  a  fleck  of  dust  could  be  seen  upon  the  solid  mahogany 
furniture,  not  a  thread  or  fibre  upon  the  lily- strewn  carpet.  And 
while  her  left  hand  dallied  with  the  fragrant  bouquet,  on  a  marble 
stand  beside  her,  her  right  involuntarily  sought  her  heart,  crush- 
ing the  light  fluting  above  it,  in  an  agonized  pressure.  In  place  of 
the  radiant  countenance  reflected  from  the  mirror,  a  sudden  mel- 
ancholy weighed  upon  her  lids,  till  they  concealed  the  dark  eyes 
shrouded  in  sorrow.  Her  watchful  ear  caught  the  sound  of  steps 
upon  the  staircase,  the  right  hand  dropped  by  her  side,  a  stifled 
groan,  a  despairing  glance  upward,  and  she  approached  the  open- 
ing door. 

The  visitor  paused  upon  the  threshold  with  gratified  surprise, 
exclaiming, — 

"Superb!  Pauline  !  charming!" 

The  old  joy  flitted  back  into  her  eyes ;  with  a  tender  smile,  as 
she  led  him  to  a  seat,  she  said, — 

"You  are  suffering  from  the  heat.     Let  me  stir  the  air." 

She  took  the  elegant  fan  which  he  had  brought  her  on  his  last 
trip  to  New  York,  and  stood  by  him,  fanning  slowly. 

One  could  not  easily  recognize  in  that  tall,  handsomely  dressed 
figure,  the  coarsely  clad  and  turbaned  slave-woman,  who  came  up 
the  walk  but  an  hour  previous. 

"  Sit  down,  Pauline,"  said  her  visitor,  at  the  same  time  taking 
her  hand  and  drawing  her  down  upon  the  sofa.  "  You  have  stood 
at  the  ironing  table  all  day.     Where  is  your  mistress?*' 

"  Gone  to  the  dinner,  sir.     The  carriage  left  before  I  did." 

"  Did  old   Jake,   the  gardener,  give  you  those   flowers   without 


246  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

trouble  ? "   pointing   to  the  bouquet  on   the   table.     "  Bring   them 


nearer." 


"He  said  he  'shouldn't  cut  no  flowers  for  me;  but  he  'spects 
marse  must  have  his  way.'  " 

"  What  about  Zoti  and  her  mistress,  to-day  ?  Where  is  the  girl 
now  ? " 

"  She  has  had  several  cuts  across  her  shoulders  with  the  cow- 
hide. She  is  resting  now  on  my  bed  at  home.  O  master !  Zoe  is 
but  a  wreck  of  her  former  self." 

"  Pauline,  can  you  not  remember  ?  Do  not  call  me  master  again 
in  this  room.     The  cursed  word  has  a  scorpion's  sting." 

"  Pardon,  its  not  the  heart,  but  the  tongue  which  disobeys." 

"  But  Pauline,  you  know  as  well  as  I,  that  in  this  retreat  there  is 
no  master,  no  slave.  It  is  the  unconquerable  love  of  years  that 
draws  me  like  a  magnet  to  this  room  and  to  you." 

"  It  is  true,"  she  said  as  she  raised  his  fair  hand  to  her  lips,  and 
then  retaining  it,  continued.  "  Heaven  forbid  that  I  ever  again 
thus  wound  or  displease." 

"Were  there  any  threats  for  Zoe  to-day  ?  " 

"Yes,  she  has  been  told  that  she  will  be  sold  as  a  plantation 
hand,  to  hoe  and  pick  cotton  in  the  burning  sun." 

She  pressed  the  unresisting  hand  more  closely,  slid  down  from 
the  sofa  to  the  carpet,  at  his  feet,  and  on  her  knees,  raised  her  tear- 
ful eyes  to  his. 

"  Oh  !  remove  this  terrible  dread  from  my  heart.  Tell  me  you 
will  not  sell  our  daughter,  our  beautiful  Zoe." 

"  God  knows  the  answer  would  be  no,  if  it  could  be  avoided." 

"  Why  not.  Colonel  Mowndes  ?  why  not .?  " 

Sobbing  and  half  fainting,  she  bowed  her  head  upon  his  knee. 
He  rested  his  hand  on  her  dark  curls  and  said  in  petulant  sor- 
row,— 

"  Pauline,  you  do  not  seem  to  understand  my  position.  If  you 
will  but  consider,  a  wife  and  daughter  demand  her  sale,  inexorable 
public  sentiment  demands  it,  opposing  fates  compel." 

"  But  Zoe  is  of  your  blood.  Zoe  is  your  daughter.  She  pos- 
sesses the  same  lofty,  untamed  spirit  as  yourself.  She  curses  the 
day  of  her  birth.  She  curses  her  terrible  destiny.  In  her  sleep, 
she    alternately  weeps,  curses  and  prays.     Now   I    ask   you,    her 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  247 

father,  what  will  she  become  on  the  auction  block  ?  Oh,  listen ! 
Zoe  will  be  a  raving  maniac,  bereft  of  reason,  love  and  all  the 
attractions  of  her  charming  girlhood.  Is  not  the  punishment  suffi- 
cient, to  be  thrust  from  Grace's  room  among  the  kitchen  pots  and 
to  be  made  a  scullion  .-*  " 

Colonel  Mowndes  raised  the  suppliant  and  placed  her  in  the  arm- 
chair, took  from  the  side-board  a  glass  of  wine,  and  held  it  to  her 
lips. 

"Drink,  Pauline,  drink  present  strength." 

After  a  few  moments  of  thought,  he  began, — 

"Do  not  upbraid  me!  Do  not  imagine  there  is  no  heartache 
for  me,  in  this  matter.  I  am  the  victim  of  the  horrid  gnome  of 
Slavery,  which  broods  over  our  land  like  a  vampire.  Zoe  must  be 
sold.  Let  us  settle  all  preliminaries  to-night,  with  mutual  conces- 
sions, if  need  be.  I  will  save  her  from  plantation  cruelty.  Can 
you  not  find  a  purchaser.?  " 

"Let  me  show  you,  my  dear  colonel,"  she  said,  raising  one  im- 
ploring hand.  "There  is  a  gentleman  here  in  Charleston  from 
Mississippi,  who  knew  her  before  her  hair  was  cut,  and  before  she 
wore  the  coarse  Osnaburg  suit  in  the  kitchen.  He  professed  to 
love  her,  promised  to  make  her  his  true  and  honorable  wife,  if  you 
would  sell  her  to  him.  I  did  not  give  it  a  passing  thought.  How 
could  I  part  with  my  proud  Zoe.?  How  could  I  speak  of  selling 
from  my  sight  that  lovely  blossom  of  my  life,  and  yours  ?  "  She 
wrung  her  hands  in  agony,  and  with  stifled  moans,  then  con- 
tinued,— 

"  Perhaps  he  will  buy  her  now.  Their  mutual  love  will  heal  the 
wound  of  separation." 

Has  Zoe  an  attachment  for  this  man.?     What  is  his  name  ? '' 

"I  believe  she  has,  but  she  bravely  cast  it  aside  for  me,  and  you, 
and  Miss  Grace.     His  name  is  Sillton." 

The  colonel  spoke  soothing!}^, — 

"  My  poor  Pauline  I  try  to  be  calm  and  brave.  Ordinarily,  she 
would  be  sold  from  the  yard,  but  as  it  is,  my  family  will  send  her 
to  the  auction  table.  A  sale  day  occurs  day  after  to-morrow. 
Meantime  manage  to  see  Sillton." 

"  And  if  he  buys  my  Zoe,  where  will  she  stay  then,  till  he  goes 
back  to  Mississippi?" 


248  WHITE   MAY,  AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

"After  dark,  she  can  come  here.  I  will  give  you  a  pass  to  visit 
Zoe  early,  in  the  jail ;  but  instead,  you  can  come  here,  and  prepare 
to  meet  her." 

"And  I  will  divide  my  clothing  with  her,  that  she  may  appear 
lady-like,  as  she  was  accustomed." 

"No,  Pauline,  not  your  clothes.  I  shall  purchase  a  handsome 
ward- robe  for  her,  myself.  You  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  helping 
her  make  it  up,  here,  in  your  own  apartment." 

"  I  cannot  do  that,  I  have  to  attend  to  the  fine  ironing  of   Miss 

Grace." 

"True,  Pauline;  but  you  can  do  what  I  propose  —  you  shall  do 
that !  I  shall  profess  at  home  that  your  presence  in  the  yard  irri- 
tates me  —  that  I  will  hire  you  out  for  ten  dollars  per  month.  So 
you  will  come  here,  and  be  always  ready  to  welcome  me.  These 
apartments  are  so  remote  from  my  residence  that  you  will  not  be 
discovered.  Alphonsc  Wallace,  Leonore  Wallace's  brother,  will 
give  you  kitchen  room.  I  own  this  house,  and  he  hires  of  me.  We 
are  on  the  best  of  terms ;  and  his  boy  will  do  your  marketing.  I 
cannot  spare  you  to  go  with  Zoe.  I  want  you  myself.  Cheer  up, 
now.  Zoe  may  have  an  independent  home  of  her  own.  You  will 
hold  intercourse  by  letters,  telling  each  all  about  the  other.  No 
thanks,  if  you  please.  Bring  wine  and  fruit  from  the  sideboard.  I 
am  weary  with  all  this  planning.  It  is  an  uncommon  stroke  of  ex- 
ertion on  my  part." 

Pauline's  face  grew  bright  at  his  kindness  and  pleasantries. 

*'It  is  my  turn  to  revive  now;"  and  he  threw  himself  upon  the 
lounge. 

His  departure  was  made  at  a  late  hour. 

"■  I  shall  go  to  the  dinner,"  he  said. 

"My  pass!  Colonel  Mowndes,  have  you  forgotten  it?"  She 
hastily  placed  pen  and  paper.  He  wrote  and  folded  it.  Pauline 
pressed  the  pass  to  her  lips,  went  with  her  master  to  the  stairway, 
and  waved  him  good  night. 

Left  alone,  the  trying  future  flashed  vividly  before  her.  Pau- 
line's handsome  features  grew  rigid  with  the  great  pain  that 
weighed  upon  her  thoughts. 

'' h  bond  slave!"  she  ejaculated,  as  she  turned  away,  and 
threw  herself   in  turn   upon   the   sofa.     ''  A  bond   slave   forever ! 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  249 

Colonel  Mowndes  loves  me,  I  know.  Yes,  he  has  loved  me  from 
boyhood;  loves  me  without  marriage!  And  his  own  lawful 
marriage  —  what  has  it  been  ?  but  an  outrage,  a  mockery.  Thank 
God,  his  wife  knows  it  not ;  and  I,  the  helpless  accomplice  of  her 
wrongs.  Am  I  guilty }  Am  I  to  be  condemned  for  this  love  for 
him,  which  is  the  only  thing  that  makes  my  wretched  life  endur- 
able ?  What  if  I  refuse  to  see  him  more  ?  The  auction  table  v/aits 
for  me,  and  after  that,  what  ?  O  God  !  what .?  To  be  owned,  soul 
and  body,  by  a  heartless  being  whom  my  souls  abhors  ;  compelled 
to  drag  out  an  existence  to  which  death  would  be  happiness.  The 
sin  was  in  his  marriage,  for  he  gave  his  hand  to  wealth  and  blood, 
after  he  had  confided  his  heart  to  me.  Blood,  another  mockery! 
My  blood  is  blue.  The  proudest  and  purest  of  three  generations  is 
my  inheritance  ;  and  Zoe,  poor,  dear  Zoe's  is  bluer  still,  and  her 
beauty  more  striking  than  her  sister  Grace's.  Is  it  a  sin  to  sell  his 
own  blood  .?  Sin,  O  Jesus  !  is't  a  sin  ?  Is  there  a/ijf  sin,  a/iy  wrong  ? 
Is  there  any  injustice  in  this  church -going  city.^" 

A  low,  derisive  laugh  quavered  through  the  chamber,  succeeded 
by  hysterical  sobbing  which  lasted  till  the  bursting  heart  was  re- 
lieved. Then  Pauline  arose,  slowly  removed  the  ornaments,  took 
the  rose-buds  from  her  hair,  folded  the  pink  sash,  hung  the  gauzy 
dress  in  the  wardrobe,  and  changed  the  pretty  slippers  for  the 
heavy,  slip-shod  shoes  she  wore  in  her  master's  kitchens. 

A  few  moments  more  transferred  the  superb  Pauline  into  the 
coarsely  clad  laundress  of  Grace  Alou'ndes.  Again  before  the  oval 
mirror  she  bound  the  plaid  turban  closely  across  her  forehead,  tuck- 
ing up  every  stray  curl.  She  arranged  her  long  Osnaburg  apron, 
caught  up  the  precious  pass,  and  glided  into  the  darkness  of  the 
street. 

The  day  after  to-morrow  came.  Carriages,  horses  and  pedes- 
trians choked  the  street  in  front  of  the  slave- mart.  Curses  and 
oaths  mingled  with  the  bustle  and  bidding.  After  several  sales, 
Zoe  was  brought  forward.  She  sprang  upon  the  long  table  with  a 
frenzied  step,  and  walked  up  to  the  front,  with  the  hunting  stride 
of  a  Diana;  scanning  sharply  the  bystanders  as  she  went.  She 
still  wore  the  badge  of  degradation  to  which  Grace  had  condemned 
her  —  the  coarse  dress  of  the  scullion,  and  her  short  hair  frizzed 
wildly   about   her   head.     A   hushed  murmur  of    admiration    ran 


250  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

through  the  brutal  crowd.     The  auctioneer  stepped  forward,  to  ad- 
vertise her  claims  to  a  profitable  sale. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  cried,  "here  is  a  prinie  article,  young  and 
sound.  There  are,  however,  certain  conditions  to  the  sale.  This 
fine  piece  of  flesh  must  become  a  plantation  worker.  She  will  be 
sold  lower  for  that  reason,  as  there  will  be  some  loss  in  breaking 
her  in." 

Defiance  flashed  from  Zoe's  dark  eyes,  as  she  sought  earnestly 
amons:  the  sea  of  sensual  faces  turned  towards  the  table.  The 
bidding  ran  low  from  the  conditions  of  sale.  Two  men,  standing 
against  the  wall  at  the  right,  held  a  rapid  consultation.  One  of 
low  statue,  prominent  shoulders  and  humped,  distorted  spine,  gazed 
up  intently  into  the  face  of  the  other. 

"  Bid  eleven  hundred,"  said  the  taller. 

"  Bid  for  me,  Mr.  Steele,"  timidly  requested  the  dwarf.  The 
other  bent  his  head,  saying, — 

"  It  wouldn't  do  for  me,  Edmund.  My  wife,  Lucy,  might  hear 
of  it  from  that  dare-devil  on  the  table,  if  you  take  her  to  the  par- 
sonage. Lucy's  been  South  long  enough  to  learn  the  ways.  Bid 
yourself,  Stone.  That  girl's  just  what  you  want  in  your  house. 
She'd  be  an  ornament  and  a  companion  for  any  clergyman  ;  just 
what  you  want,  Edmund.     Bid." 

"Eleven  hundred  dollars,"  said  the  dwarf. 

"  Eleven  hundred,"  echoed  the  auctioneer.  "  A  prime  article  ! 
eleven  hundred  dollars,  gentlemen  !  Going  !  going,  gentlemen  ! 
going  !  " 

The  previous  bid  was  one  thousand,  from  a  person  nearly  hidden 
by  the  crowd  in  front.  At  the  sound  of  that  voice,  Zoe's  eyes  had 
dropped,  and  a  slight  fiush  suffused  her  cheek.  Now  she  turned 
exasperated  tow^ards  the  standing  place  of  the  dwarf  and  his  com- 
panion. Her  fair  cheeks  glowed,  scarlet  as  the  roses  in  her 
father's  garden.  The  blue  veins  of  her  white  neck  and  temples 
swelled  with  a  sudden  tumult  of  emotion.  She  extended  her  small, 
white  hands,  exclaiming, — 


^^  Not  gohig,  gentlemen  1  ?iot  goin 


/" 


Turning  her  blazing  look  upon  the  reverend  bidder, — 
"  Not  going,  incarnate  fiend  !  dwarfed  representative  of   Satan  ! 
Do  not  delude  yourself,  that  you  will  hold  a  blue-blooded  daughter 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  25 1 

of  South  Carolina  to  do  your  bidding  !  These  feet  will  never  walk 
the  furrows  of  a  cotton -field.     These  hands  will  never  hold  a  hoe." 

She  took  one  tragic  step  forward,  lifted  a  menacing  arm  and  fin- 
ger upward  and  cried, — 

"  No,  by  the  great  White  Throne  of  the  Almighty  God  !  No, 
buy  me  at  your  peril !  I'll  cut  this  white  throat  before  your  eyes  ! 
I'll  give  this  hunted  spirit  back  to  its  rightful  Owner,  to  Him  who 
has  no  room  for  it  on  earth.     Hear  !  ye  cursed  wretches  !  hear  ?  " 

A  sort  of  terror  fell  insensibly  upon  auctioneer  and  buyers. 

She  went  on. 

"  One  man  alone  is  present  who  shall  pay  a  price  for  me.  That 
one  already  posesses  my  heart.  He  has  offered  one  thousand. 
Dare  not,  you  devils,  to  outbid  him,  or  I  swear  by  the  Savior  of 
men,  that  you  will  pay  for  a  lifeless  corpse  ! " 

She  stood  dauntless  and  defiant,  panting  with  excitement.  Co- 
lonel Mowndes  at  that  moment  crossed  the  opening  in  front  of  the 
table,  and  disappeared.  He  had  heard  his  daughter's  terrible 
words.     A  folded  paper  was  passed  to  the  auctioneer. 

During  the  momentary  hush  of  his  reading  the  note,  the  heroic 
crisis  of  Zoe's  exaltation  was  passing.  The  appalling  degradation 
of  her  situation  smote  her  fragile  nature  to  a  tottering  sense  of  ut- 
ter friendlessness  and  abandonment.  Through  tears,  her  grieving 
eyes  sought  the  one  face,  on  which  she  cared  to  read  her  fate.  It 
was  still  there,  pale  and  anxious,  with  his  tender  eyes  fixed  upon 
her.  His  white  handkerchief  clandestinely  waved  an  "All  right" 
to  her  inquiring  gaze.  The  vender  of  God's  images  brought  his 
hammer  with  violence  upon  the  table. 

"  Sold  !  "  he  cried.     ''  Bring  on  old  David.  " 

The  summer  sunset  of  that  evenino:  was  arraved  in  all  its  South- 
ern  glory.  The  skies  over  Charleston  burned  crimson,  to  the 
zenith.  A  broad  path  of  shimmering  rose  stretched  across  the 
Ashley,  from  the  low  shores  of  its  farther  side  to  the  city.  A  de- 
licious violet  haze  filled  every  street  and  court  and  alley,  enwrap- 
ping roofs  and  spires  in  a  memory  of  the  Orient.  The  whole  city 
was  out,  enjoying  its  unrivalled  beauty,  crossing  and  re-crossing  the 
bright  streets,  or  vanishing  in  their  purple  shade. 

Zee  sat  upon  the  floor,  in  a  dim  room  of  the  jail,  amid  a  hetero- 
geneous mass  of  men,  women,  and  children,  from  every  part  of  the 


252  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

State  —  in  all  shades  of  color,  and  in  every  degree  of  squalor.  Re- 
gardless of  the  groans,  tears,  prayers  and  cursings  around  her,  she 
silently  nourished  the  small  fiame  of  hope  kindling  within  her  dark 
destiny,  and  longed  for  the  coming  of  the  stars  and  her  owner. 

The  apartment  of  Pauline  was  again  lighted  at  an  earlier  hour 
than  usual.  She  was  in  reception  dress.  The  same  Grecian  knot 
of  curls,  with  white  jasmine  and  purple  heliotrope,  trailed  from  her 
shapely  head.  She  had  chosen  white  muslin  for  her  toilet,  with  a 
brooch  of  amethyst,  and  a  sash  of  the  same  hue.  A  side  table, 
spread  with  delicate  china,  over  which  Spring  herself  seemed  to 
have  sprinkled  bouquets  of  violets,  giaced  the  occasion.  Cold 
meats,  salads,  fruits,  and  an  ample  iced  loaf  were  concealed  under 
snowy  napkins.  She  whiled  away  the  tardy  moments  listening  to 
the  laughter  below  of  Alphonse  Wallace  and  the  dark  woman  he 
had  chosen,  and  to  the  noisy  romping  of  his  children.  The  ex- 
pected guests  arrived.  Zoe,  half  clad  in  the  soiled  garments  of 
menial  service,  fell  into  the  embrace  of  her  mother. 

"Saved,  thank  God!"  cried  Pauline.  "The  worst  is  over!" 
She  held  Zoe  from  her,  and  pondering,  exclaimed,  "One  sister, 
dwelling  in  elegance  —  pampered  with  love  and  luxury!  The 
other,  the  more  beautiful,  sold  in  the  shambles  !  Jesus  the  Christ ! 
let  a  curse  follow  those  who  cause  these  cruel  distinctions  !  Let 
poverty  and  anguish  be  their  final  reward  !  " 

Gratefully  Pauline  thanked  Mr.  Sillton,  and  begged  him  to  tarry 
till  she  could  remove  those  wretched  rags  from  her  child,  and  then 
led  her  to  the  dressing-room.  Caresses  and  words  of  endearment 
interrupted  the  duties  of  the  toilet.  The  shorn  hair  was  laid  in 
short  curls  about  the  white  brow  and  neck.  A  white  muslin,  shear 
as  mist,  and  finished  with  fine  laces,  flowed  gracefully  about  her 
tall  form.  A  sash  of  white  satin  encircled  her  slender  waist.  The 
soft  drapery  of  the  arms  was  looped  to  her  shoulders  with  falling 
sprays  of  white  jasmine,  and  a  knot  of  the  same  flowers  was  fast- 
ened among  the  light  puffings  on  her  breast.  White  satin  gaiters 
encased  the  small  ankles. 

When  these  were  brought  forward,  Zoe  remonstrated;  and 
asked, — 

"Whence  come  these  beautiful  articles.'"' 

"  Rained   down,   my  child !  "    answered   Pauline,   with   a   happy 


WHITE   MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  253 

laugh.  She  opened  a  small  casket  before  Zoe's  astonished  eyes, 
saying,  "  Raise  your  arm ! "  and  she  clasped  a  bracelet  of  pearls 
upon  it. 

"  Splendid,  dearie  !  Now  turn  your  head  a  wee  bit  for  the  ear- 
rings —  a  match  for  the  bracelet." 

Upon  leaving  the  dressing-room,  Mr.  Sillton  rose,  and  advancing 
to  meet  them,  respectfully  took  the  daughter's  small  white  hand, 
saying, — 

"  Allow  me  to  compliment  this  surprising  loveliness  !  Do  I  ad- 
dress an  houri  from  the  bowers  of  Paradise  f " 

Zoe's  lids  dropped,  and  their  black  silken  fringes  concealed 
whatever  of  emotion  stirred  their  loving  depths.     Her  lips  said, — 

"  I  am  your  slave,  sir." 

"  Voluntarily  so  ?  "  he  asked. 

"The  slave  can  have  no  will  —  can  cherish  no  preference.  The 
master  wills  —  the  slave  obeys  !  " 

"Then,  my  adored,  the  master  speaks  !  "  he  continued  with  im- 
passioned tenderness  ;    "Zoe,  my  darling  Zoe  !     I  make  you  fiee  !  " 

He  hastened  to  take  from  the  marble  table,  beneath  the  fragrant 
flowers  from  Colonel  Mowndes'  garden,  a  long  silver  box.  On  its 
cover,  in  relief,  was  a  dove  making  her  nest  among  lilies.  He  pre- 
sented it,  saying, — 

"Here  are  your  free  papers  —  the  deed  of  3'ourself -r- to  have, 
and  to  hold  uncontrolled,  the  noblest,  purest  womanhood  I  have 
ever  met." 

Dazed  with  doubt  and  joy,  the  full  glory  of  her  swimming  eyes 
lifted  upon  her  rescuer. 

"  It  cannot  be  !  Oh  !  no  !  "  she  said  fainting,  and  making  a  spas- 
modic effort  for  support,  she  swooned  to  the  floor.  Mr.  Sillton 
raised  her  to  the  sofa ;  and  Pauline,  bathing  the  pale  temples, 
lavished  every  epithet  of  affection. 

"  Ah  !  my  beautiful !  hunted  abused  and  crushed  till  reason,  and 
life  itself  are  dethroned  !  O  Heaven  !  Is  there  no  mercy  for  the 
oppressed.'*     Is  there  no  retribution  for  the  oppressor.?" 

Her  lover  sat  in  silent  distress,  chafing  the  cold  hands,  till  sen- 
sation returned.  Then  her  languid  eyes  sought  Pauline,  with  the 
question, — 

"  Am  I  free }     Dear  mother,  is  it  true  ?" 


254  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"You  are  so!  Be  convinced  ! "  She  opened  the  silver  box, 
took  out  the  paper,  and  requested  Mr.  Sillton  to  read. 

This  he  did  ;  adding, — 

''  You  are  as  free  as  3'ou  can  be  in  South  Carolina ;  but  you  are 
obliged  to  have  a  guardian,  until  you  leave  the  state.  I  took  upon 
myself  that  office — an  act  which  I  deemed  the  most  satisfactory  to 
you." 

"  You  paid  a  thousand  dollars  for  me  ?  " 

"  I  did ;  and  the  money  has  already  been  sent  to  Miss  Grace 
Mowndes.  It  was  not  one  third  of  your  value,  as  the  market  goes, 
but  it  seems  that  Mrs.  Mowndes  desired  the  indulgence  of  jealousy 
and  revenue,  more  than  monev.  Colonel  Mowndes  has  washed  his 
hands  of  the  sale,  as  far  as  may  be." 

"  Can  I  go  out  and  in  at  my  pleasure,  without  permission  ?  Can 
I  travel  to  Columbia,  or  Savannah,  or  New  York,  if  I  choose,  with- 
out a  pass  ? " 

'•Your  air  of  high-breeding  and  refinement,  added  to  your  fasci- 
nating beauty,  will  be  a  sufficient  passport  beyond  this  locality,  at 
any  time  ;  but  to  one  recently  freed  from  bondage,  there  might 
possibly  be  treachery.  I  believe  this  kind  of  treachery  is  rife  in 
certain  states.  While  I  remain  in  Charleston,  you  cannot  have  a 
fear,  my  beloved  Zoe.  You  are  as  free  as  the  white-winged  bird 
that  soars  into  the  blue  vault  of  day.  Your  will  is  your  own,  you 
can  cherish  and  indulge  preferences,  as  freely  as  any  lady  in  the 
land." 

A  delirium  of  delight  lighted  up  her  eager  eyes,  and  flushed  her 
pale  face. 

''Alas  !"  she  asked,  "how  shall  I  find  gratitude  commensurate 
with  this  surpassing  favor  ?  What  can  I  render  for  this  inestimable 
gift.-*     Nothing,  but  my  poor  thanks  !  " 

"Thanks  from  those  lips  would  be  a  large  reward,  but  I  will 
venture  to  say,  this  miserable  heart  of  mine  would  fain  ask  more. 
It  would  seek  a  nearer  relation  than  your  lawful  guardian  by  the 
slave  code  of  South  Carolina.  It  solicits  the  gift  of  your  hand, 
prompted  by  the  voluntary  action  of  your  love — for  your  hand  in 
a  speedy  and  honorable  marriage,  that  no  scandal  should  assail  the 
purity  of  your  new-found  freedom,  or  mar  the  fame  of  your  inherent 
virtues." 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  255 

He  walked  up  and  down  the  room  for  some  time,  and  returned. 
Zoe  rose,  and  without  hesitation,  laid  her  hand  in  his. 

"  Take  it!  "  she  said.  •'  Take  this  unworthy  and  dowerless  hand  j 
and  with  it,  the  first  possession  I  ever  held  —  myself y 

"My  life  shall  attest  my  obligation  for  this  happiness  !  "  he  said, 
and  raised  her  hand  to  his  lips.  "  Will  my  angel  grant  her  peti- 
tioner an  early  fulfilment  of  her  generons  promise.?  Pauline,  let 
me  entreat  you  to  become  my  intercessor !  that  this  eventful  day 
may  be  consecrated  by  the  holy  ceremony,  which  will  give  me  the 
power  to  watch  over,  and  protect  our  beloved  Zoe,  till  death.  I 
will  disembarrass  you  of  the  constraint  of  my  presence,  and  give 
time  for  considering  my  proposition." 

Left  alone,  Pauline  explained  what  she  had  learned  from  Mr. 
Sillton  during  the  day ;  that  his  stay  could  be  prolonged  only  one 
week ;  that  although  the  laws  of  the  state  prohibited  marriage  be- 
tween white  and  any  sprung  from  the  colored  race,  he  had  an  inti- 
mate friend,  a  clergyman,  in  the  city,  who  would  perform  the  cer- 
emony privately,  and  that,  beyond  the  narrow  circle  of  Zoe's 
acquaintance,  no  one  would  q'uestion  her  blue-blooded  lineage. 

"My  dear  Zoe,"  she  continued,  "you  would  not  risk  staying 
here  after  he  left.  You  would  then  be  without  a  suitable  protector. 
You  surely  would  accompany  him,  then  t  " 

The  sobbing  girl  threw  her  arms  about  her  mother's  neck,  cry- 
ing,— 

"Am  I  to  part  from  you  so  soon,  and  never  to  see  you  again  .?  O 
mother !  this  freedom  brings  with  if  heartache  and  bitterness  of 
soul ! " 

"But  consider,  dear  Zoe  !  I  am  sure  you  are  going  to  a  happy 
home.  Mr.  Sillton  is  a  Northerner  by  birth,  from  Ohio.  His 
parents  and  other  relatives  are  living  there.  As  his  wife,  you  will 
visit  them,  and  be  received  by  every  member  of  his  family  with 
warm  and  welcoming  love.  Although  I  am  left  a  slave,  I  shall 
have  comfort,  yes,  even  luxury,  and  the  steady,  unfailing  affection 
of  Colonel  Mowndes.  In  a  short  time,  I  am  to  occupy  this  room 
altogether;  to  rest  and  employ  my  time  as  I  choose." 

"  But  Colonel  Mowndes  may  change,  or  he  may  die,  leaving  you 
to  the  mercy  of  those  two  women.  And  God  only  knows  what  your 
fate  would  be  then  !  " 


256  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"Let  US  hope  for  the  best,  my  poor  child.  It  is  better  that  one 
should  be  free,  than  that  both  should  wear  the  millstone  of  slavery 
about  our  necks.  We  shall  write  letters  to  each  other,  in  which  T 
shall  tell  you  all.  The  colonel  will  write  for  me,  and  receive  yours. 
He  has  promised  that. 

Now  let  us  speak  of  yourself,  dear  Zoe.  You  know  Mr.  Sillton 
left  me  to  intercede  for  his  marriage  with  you  this  evening.  He 
desires  to  shield  you  from  every  shadow  of  injustice  and  wrong.  " 

Zoe's  face  was  suffused  with  a  soft  maiden  blush. 

"Why  not  delay  my  marriage  till  the  end  of  the  week?  I  have 
not  the  wedding  garments  ;  and  what  injustice  and  wrong  can  be  iu 
ambush  for  me  now?" 

''  We  cannot  tell,  my  darling.  There  is  danger  in  the  very  air  of 
this  city.  An  eleven  hundred  dollar  bid  was  offered  for  you,  and 
you  were  destined  for  a  cotton-field.  Wliat  if  here,  alone  in  this 
room,  one  should  enter  with  violence,  seize  your  free  papers,  seize 
you^  under  cover  of  darkness,  and  hurry  you  out  of  the  city,  and  put 
you,  helpless  and  friendless,  into  other  shambles?  Search  your 
memory  and  recall  brown  Margeret,  who  was  sold  to  a  young  Ala- 
bama planter  for  his  unmarried  wife.  After  two  years  he  died  ;  and 
he  loved  her  so  faithfully,  that  he  gave  her  free  papers,  and  made 
arranszements  that  she  should  hold  his  house  as  her  own.  She, 
ignorant  and  unsuspicious,  returned  to  his  friends  here,  from  whom 
she  was  purchased.  They  stole  her  free  papers,  made  her  a  slave 
again,  put  her  in  the  kitchen  as  cook,  cut  off  her  long  braids  of 
wavy  hair,  and  besides,  treated  her  cruelly.  Do  you  not  re- 
member? " 

"Oh!  yes,  I  remember."  A  shudder  ran  over  her  —  the  sweet 
blushes  paled  to  whiteness, 

"  Then,  you  know  also  how  old  Auntie  Mamy  paid  for  herself 
twice  over,  and  only  got  free  in  her  old  age." 

"  I  know,  mother.  I  know.  There  is  no  safety  here.  Mrs. 
Mowndes  and  Grace  are  ferocious.  They  would  be  more  than  will- 
ing to  put  me  to  torture.  I  consent  to  the  marriage.  Speak  for 
me,  mamma.  Beg  my  preserver  to  trust  in  my  eternal  gratitude. 
Beg  him  to  doubt  not  the  love  of  a  heart,  wholly  and  forever  his." 

Pauline  passed  out  of  the  glass  door,  to  the  piazza.  After  a 
short  delay,  she  returned  with  Mr.  Sillton.     For  a  few  winged   mo- 


WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  257 

ments,   he   held   his  lovely  bride  to  his  breast,   amid   the  blissful 
silence  and  overflowing  tears  of  both. 

Pauline  received  her  from  him,  with  the  smiling  admonition  to 
nave  all  m  readiness  at  his  return. 

"It   will  be  a  short  farewell,"  he  saidj  and  with  hurried  steps 
descended  into  the  street.  ^ 

^  Pauline  proceeded  to  her  task  of  dressing-maid  with  gleefnl  alac- 
rity. Again,  in  the  dressing-room,  she  exposed  to  Zoe's  astonished 
view,  a  fragrant  profusion  of  cut  flowers,  and  other  bridal  decora- 
tions. From  a  jewelry  case  she  drew  a  pearl  necklace,  the  match 
to  her  ear-rings  and  bracelets,  from  which  depended  a  locket, 
studded  with  the  same  silvery  spheres.  The  chief  treasure  was 
enclosed  within— the  picture  of  her  affianced  husband.  As  Zoe 
behe  d  the  proud  and  manly  face,  she  held  it  to  her  lips  rever- 
entially, saying, — 

"  Dearer  than  all  else,  marnma.  Dearer  than  all." 
■  "  No  more  tears  to-night,  my  darling,"  said  the  mother,  in  cheerful 
reproof,  as  she  gently  withdrew  the  bright  circlet  from  Zoe's  hands 
and  fastened  it  about  her  snowy  throat.  From  another  receptacle 
issued  a  bndal  veil  of  gossamer  lace,  and  from  another  still,  a 
wreath  of  white  jasmine  ready  formed,  to  which  the  veil  was  soon 
attached. 

Zoe  suffered  the  wreath  to  be  placed  upon  her  head,  and  the 
folds  of  the  misty  lace  to  be  adjusted  about  her  rigid  fio-ure  in  si- 
lent abstraction.  The  events  of  the  day,  so  strange,  ^rapid  and 
overwhelming,  nearly  palsied  perception.  Pauline  went  on  with 
her  work  ;  tacking  spray  after  spray  of  sweet  white  blossoms,  and 
their  trailing  delicate  pinnate  leaves  here  and  there  upon  the  flowino- 
veil.  ^ 

Zoe,  suddenly  awakened  to  reflection,  asked   abruptly,— 
"Who    brought   all    these    beautiful   and   costly    art'icles    here 
mamma  ?     Who  can  love  me  so  ?  "  ' 

"  The  fairies,  Zoe.  Let  there  be  some  mysteries  with  to  dav's 
terrible  realities."  •' 

"  Am  I  to  question  nothing  ?  " 

"Nothing  to-night,  my  queen.  It  is  sufficient  that  they  are 
yours.  -^ 

After  the  veil,  the  long  white  gloves  reaching  nearly  to  the  elbow 


258  WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

—  then  the  delicately  embroidered  Paris  handkerchief.  Nothing 
was  wanting.  Pauline  hastened  to  place  vases  of  odorous  flowers 
about  the  room  in  every  possible  place.  She  had  scarcely  taken 
breath,  when  Mr.  Sillton,  accompanied  by  a  clergyman  in  black 
silk  robes,  entered.  They  were  attended  also  by  a  friend  of  the 
bridegroom,  as  v^'ilness. 

''Who  would  have  imagined  this  apartment  held  such  tran- 
scendent loveliness? ''  said  the  witness  in  evening  dress. 

"The  fates  have  been  propitious  to  you,  sir,"  bowed  the  clergy- 
man.    "  Such  beauty  and  elegance  are  rarely  combined." 

With  affectionate  deference,  Mr.  Sillton  took  his  place  by  Zoe's 
side.  The  rites  of  the  ceremony  soon  performed  on  the  part  of 
the  minister,  were  completed  by  a  husband's  embrace  and  his  low 
murmur, — 

'•  My  bel-oved  wife." 


CHAPTER   XV. 

IN  the  ideal  of  Mrs.  Lucy  Steele,  the  South  had  been  a  beautiful 
dream  ;  fraught  with  fragrant  bowers  of  perpetual  spring,  with 
laughing  skies  and  balmy  airs,  with  luscious  fruits,  and  with  a  glad- 
some rest  from  the  ever-recurring  and  perpetual  cares  of  Northern 
households.  The  subject  of  slavery  never  disturbed  the  peace  of 
the  domestic  hearth,  or  vexed  her  own  thoughts.  Their  tranquility 
was  never  roused  to  a  consideration  of  its  moral  claims  upon  the 
Republic,  or  upon  the  individual  conscience.  So  there  was  nothing 
in  the  Southern  journey  before  her  to  be  feared,  nothing  to  sully 
bright  anticipation,  nothing  to  mar  the  serene  depths  of  love  for 
the  husband  of  her  choice. 

Pier  ideal  dream  of  South  Carolina  has  been  more  than  realized  ; 
aye,  enhanced  by  charming  reality.  She  passed  from  drifted  snows 
to  perpetual  greenness.  She  entered  the  overseer's  unassuming 
house  as  her  future  home,  without  surprise  or  env}',  in  its  compari- 
son with  the  lordly  mansion  of  "  Le  Grand  Palais,"  standing  ia 
solitary  grandeur  at  a  proper  distance,  both  from  herself  and  the 
slave  quarters.     She  sat  down  with  a  smiling  trust  among  her  black 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  259 

servants,   accepting  their  new  and    strange   offices    with   content 
bhe  partook  of  \he   novel  viands  placed  before  her,  without  her 
direction,  pleased  with  the  picturesque  change  in  her  life,  and  Had 
tor  the  time  to  revel  amid  the  ravishing  beauty  without 

For  her  rides  and  walks  with  WilHam,  she  suffered  herself  to  be 
robed  or  disrobed,  feeling  the  delicate  gentleness  of  the  black 
hands  that  folded  her  garments  about  her,  and  sensible  of  the  ten- 
derness in  the  voices  that  addressed  her  as  "  my  dear  youno- 
missus  '  innocently  supposing  this  to  be  the  charmed  lot  of  all 
the  ladies  in  that  happy  South. 

The  little,   half-naked,  unkempt  children  of  the  negro  quarters 

hovered  about  her  out-door  wanderings,  sure  to  gain  a  smile   or  a 

kind  word,  by  some  rollicking  prank  or  childish  giggle  ;  they  flocked 

about  her  door,  with  hands  full  of  sweet  flowers  for  "  Miss  Lucv  " 

till  her  rooms  were  a  bower  of  perfume.     The  slaves  in   the  fields 

dropped  courtesies,  or  quickly  bared  their  heads  as  she  passed  bv' 

to  look  after  her  with  loving,  thoughtful  eyes,  or  standin-  in  their 
cabin  doors,  said  always, — 

"  God  bless  you,  honey." 

In  the  later  spring,  she  went  to  the"  great  house  "  with  her  hus- 
band, to  inspect  the  rooms  and  assist  in  giving  orders  for  its  prepa- 
ration  for  the  return   of  the  family  from  Europe,   in  the   autumn. 
l.ed  by  the  old  gardener,  she  strolled  through  the  gardens    filled 
with  wonder  and  admiration  of  the  unheard  of  floral   variety      She 
traversed  the  ample,  double  piazzas,  overhung  with  climbino-  roses 
of  a     hues;  and  her  eyes  ran  over  the  level  misty  view  o1  field 
woodland   and  river,  in  rapturous  delight.     Under  the  guidance  of 
Dorcas,  the  faithful  housekeeper,  who,  with  a  solemn    bunch   of 
gmghng  keys   at  her  belt,  unlocked  drawers,  pantries  and  closets 
she  beheld  such  costly  curtains,  rolled  carpets  and  French  china' 
as  her  eyes  had  never  before  looked  upon.  ' 

;' My  young  lady,  this  is  nothing  to  their  house  in  Charleston  " 
said  Dorcas,  relocking  the  doors  and  drawers. 

u  ^^^"^  t°  ^^^^  occupy  this,  and  when  that"?  "  asked  Lucy. 
Marse  Fairland  comes  here  in  de  winter,  and  stays  in  Charles- 
ton  in  de  summer,  when  they  don't  travel     Have  been  gone  lono- 
time  now.     If  you  stay  here  this  winter,  you  will  see  gayety  enou-lf 
Ladies,   gentlemen,  dinners,  horses,   hounds,   guns    and  sports'*  a 


2  6o  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

plenty.  De  silver  is  in  Charleston  in  de  bank ;  box  upon  box  of 
it;  tea  and  dinner  service,. plates,  cups,  ladles,  pitchers,  goblets, 
candelabra,  ever^ything  solid  silver.  Come,  my  young  missus,  look 
in  de  silver  closet." 

With  an  air  of  family  pride,  Dorcas  selected  the  proper  key  from 
the  others,  walked  on  with  a  more  stately  step  than  before,  and 
threw  open  the  double  door.  The  walls  and  shelves  were  covered 
with  crimson  velvet ;  there  were  grooves  and  niches,  formed  each 
to  receive  the  separate  pieces  of  the  costly  ware,  lined  in  the  same 
manner.  She  opened  drawers  divided  into  compartments,  and 
glowing  in  the  red  covering. 

"  We  keeps  it  here  t'rough  de  winter,  missus,  ready  for  de  grand 
dinners  and  balls.  Then  in  de  spring  it  is  packed  in  de  boxes,  and 
carried  to  Charleston." 

The  face  of  Dorcas  suddenly  changed,  a  glittering  gleam  of 
hatred  shot  from  her  eyes. 

"This  silver  closet  is  full  of  dead  men's  bones  and  living  men's 
groans.  It  took  more  slave  flesh  and  blood  than  1  can  count,  to 
buy  de  silver  that  fills  it.  You  North  people  don't  know  nottin 
'tall  about  it.  i\ly  grandmother  was  Indian.  They  stole  her  from 
our  tribe  when  she  was  leetle  girl.  Her  father  was  chief.  I'se 
half  Indian  ;  see  missus,  my  hair  is  straight  and  long." 

She  drew  out  the  comb,  and  let  the  black  mass  fall  over  her 
shoulders. 

"These  people  talk 'bout  their  blood.  Mine  is  de  aristocratic 
blood,  a  part  kingly  blood.  These  lands  you  see  here,  missus,  all 
these  t  ousand  acres  were  de  Indians.  They  belonged  to  my  chief 
and  his  braves.  They  were  ours.  De  white  men  stole  our  lands, 
and  stole  us.  Now  I  am  slave.  My  mother  was  slave,  and  my 
grandmother  was  slave.  Sometimes,  my  dear  young  missus,  I  feel 
like  I  wish  I  had  a  tomahawk  with  a  shinin  edge,  and  that  with  it 
I  would  cut  my  way  out  to  freedom  again." 

Dorcas  raised  herself  erect  ;  her  right  arm  made  the  fierce 
motion  of  brandishing  the  aboriginal  weapon  to  the  right  and  left, 
as  she  uttered  the  last  words.  Her  sullen  and  unforgiving  orator}', 
sent  a  thrill  of  awe  over  the  face  of  Lucy.  Dorcas  was  quick  to 
perceive  this  change  in  her  listener.  In  a  calmer  tone  she  con- 
tinued,— 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  26 1 

"  Don't  be  frightened,  honey.  See,  I  have  no  tomahawk,  nothin 
but  the  keys.  Come  away  to  de  library  and  rest  you.  What  I 
said  is  only  what  I  sometimes  think  in  here,"  striking  her  breast. 
"  In  here,  all  to  myself." 

In  the  library,  Dorcas  wheeled  an  easy  chair  covered  with  brow-n 
linen,  to  the  window  for  Lucy. 

"  There,  sit  down  and  look  at  these  books  ;  never  mind  Dorcas 
any  more.     You  can  read  all  here.     I  don't  know  one  word." 

"  No,  Dorcas,  I  cannot  look  at  books  now.  Sit  down  by  me  and 
tell  me  what  I  desire  so  much  to  know." 

"  I  never  sit  down  before  white  missus.  I  stand  and  hear  de 
lady." 

"  How  old  was  your  Indian  grandmother,  when  the  whites  stole 
her.?" 

"  Very  young,  missus  ;  but  de  white  man  promised  to  make  her 
his  wife.  She  was  beautiful,  tall,  straight,  wore  a  crown  of  scarlet 
feathers  on  her  black  hair;  wore  fringed  leggins  of  soft,  yellow 
deer  skin  and  moccasins  covered  with  beads.  Her  mantle  was 
made  of  all  de  bright  feathers  of  de  forest  birds,  which  de  young 
warriors  shot  for  her;  red,  yellow,  blue,  green.  She  had  bracelets 
of  beads,  and  strings  of  all  colored  beads  about  her  neck.  She 
was   de  chief's  daughter.  Miss  Lucy." 

"  Did  he  marry  her.?  "  innocently  inquired  Mrs.  Steele. 

After  a  mocking  laugh,  Dorcas  cried. — 

"Marry  her?  De  Lord  bless  you,  no.  He  lived  with  her  and 
had  children  ;  some  he  sold,  and  some  he  kept  as  slaves.  My 
moder  was  one.     Don't  you  see,  dearie .?  " 

"  No,  no,  Dorcas.     I  cannot  understand  such  cruelty  !  " 

"My  sweet  missus,  that  was  but  one  cruelty.  All  we  colored 
women  are  de  same  here.  De  v/hite  men  love  us,  live  with  us  and 
never  marry  us.     Sell  our  pappoose.  Sell  us  if  they  chose." 

Mrs.  Steele  buried  her  face  and  groaned.  The  thought  of  such 
a  separation  from  "  William  "  was  agon\\ 

"Look  up,  honey,  you  can't  be  sold ;  and  poor  dear  child,^do  not 
try  to  bear  our  sorrows.  De  good  Lord  knows  it  all.  We  can  do 
nothin  but  pray  to  him.     Hear  !     Marse  Steele  call  his  wife  now." 

Lucy  rose,  and  her  face  brightened  at  the  sound  of  his  voice. 
Dorcas  drew  her  back  one  moment. 


262  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Dear  missis,  never  repeat  what  Dorcas'has  said,  to  any  person  — 
not  to  Marse  Steele.  We  all  at  de  house  and  on  de  plantation  love 
Marse  Steele's  young  wife ;  we  all  trus'  you.  Promise  dearie,  you 
will  be  our  friend." 

"Your  secrets  are  safe  with  me.     I  will  never  betray  you." 

Mr.  Steele  and  the  servants  had  opened  the  boxes  from  Europe, 
and  taken  out  the  paintings  and  statuary.  Their  exquisite  beauty 
was  enrapturing,  and  restored  Lucy  to  her  usual  cheerfulness. 
They  went  on  hanging  the  pictures  of  choicest  foreign  scenery, 
palaces  and  cities.  That  day  and  days  after  were  haunted  with 
their  bright  visions. 

The  summer  was  passed  in  the  pine  lands,  whither,  every  season, 
many  of  the  white  families  resorted  to  escape  the  deadly  miasma 
of  the  rice  grounds.  Here"  Lucy  met  her  first  experience  of  South- 
ern caste.  Mr.  Steele's  abode  was  built  quite  removed  from  the 
proud  hamlet  of  rough  white-washed  board-houses  in  the  heart  of 
the  forest.  She  learned  there  was  intention  in  this.  Although  her 
dress  and  manner  equalled  the  inmates  of  the  village,  no  ladies 
called  at  her  door  or  sent  invitations  for  the  frequent  merry-makings 
of  the  summer  resort.  In  her  rides  and  walks,  none  accosted  her 
or  noticed  her  presence.  She  spoke  of  it  to  her  husband.  He 
endeavored  to  reconcile  the  slight,  by  explaining  that  they  were  all 
strangers,  and  the  Southern  people  were  slow  to  form  acquaintance. 
So,  in  the  freshness  and  nearness  of  her  affection  for  him,  the 
hot  season  glided  away  pleasantly  in  the  grassy  glades  of  the  hazy 
pines,  sweetened  by  her  husband's  daily  return  from  the  plantation. 

Fall  came.  They  returned  to  "  Le  Grand  Palais,"  in  the  ex- 
pectation of  the  early  return  of  ALajor  Fairland  and  his  family. 
Lucy  offered  her  services  to  Dorcas  in  setting  the  great  house  to 
rights. 

"  No,  honey.  I  can  do  all.  De  carpets  are  down,  and  de  cur- 
tains are  ready  to  hang.  I  knows  their  ways  ;  I  can  suit  'em  well. 
Shall  be  all  prepared,  when  de  carriage  drive  'em  up  to  de  gate. 
But  come  over  to-morrow,  pretend  to  give  orders,  let  Dorcas  take 
you  to  her  room  —  Dorcas  has  something  to  show  de  dear  missis 
there." 

After  the  departure  of  Mr.  Steele  to  his  duties  as  overseer,  Lucy 
presented   herself  to  the  housekeeper,  and  was  taken  into  an  upper 


«  ; 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  263 

room  in  the  long  range  of  kitchens  joining  the  mansion.  The 
chamber  was  neatly  furnished,  and  contained  various  mementos  of 
the  favor  of  the  mistress  and  her  family.  Dorcas  received  her 
v.-ith  delight,  and  a  waiting-maid's  attention.  After  she  had  done 
all,  and  more  than  was  necessary  to  testify  her  love  and  respect  for 
Mrs.  Steele,  she  stood  before  her,  holding  a  box  in  her  hands. — 

"Shall  Dorcas  tell  the  young  lady  a  secret  now?  Is  missis 
rested  .'* " 

"You  can  tell  me  anything,  if  you  will  sit  down  by  me." 

Dorcas  courtesied  smiling,  and  brought  a  chair  to  Lucy's  side, 
insisting  she  could  not  learn  to  sit  before  a  white  lady.  She  placed 
the  box  upon  her  knees. 

"Now  don't  be  scared,  dearie,  there  is  no  tomahawk  in  this! 
This  slow,  long-sufferin'  African  blood  which  runs  w'ith  my  own, 
and  the  dreadful  power  of  the  *  buckra,'  puts  out  de  Indian  lire. 
It  only  flashes  up  'once  in  a  wa}^'  and  dies  then,  as  soon.  Oh! 
but  my  dear  missis,  I  want  freedom,  and  I  want  my  pappoose  to 
to  have  freedom  I     Does  Missis  Steele  know  about  them?  " 

"  No,  Dorcas,  except  the  two  girls  here  j  neither  have  you  men- 
tioned your  husband." 

"True,  misses.  Aleck  was  coachman,  he  was  kicked  by  one  of 
marse  wicked  horses,  and  he  died.  You  say  husband,  dearie,  but 
we  slaves  never  have  husbands  ;  we  cannot  marry  by  de  law  ;  they 
sell  us  any  time  they  choose.  But  my  white  folks  let  me  have  de 
man  I  love,  and  I  had  six  pappOose.  Laws  !  My  oldest  gal  was 
born  when  I  was  fourteen  year  old.  She  had  straight  hair,  and  de 
nex'  one  had  straight  hair.  So  you  see  missis,  they  keep  them  to 
make  ladies'maids  for  de  family.  De  oder  four  with  curly  African 
hair,  they  sell  'w^ay !  "  She  clasped  her  hands,  and  looked  upwards, 
tears  rolling  down  her  sorrowful  face. 

Sympathetic  tears  also  filled  Lucy's  eyes,  which,  Dorcas  perceiv- 
ing, she  took  the  handkerchief  from  Lucy  and  tenderly  dried  them 
away  ;  grieving  that  she  w-as  always  doing  wrong.  Then  forcing 
back  the  wild  memories,  she  declared  she  should  call  back  the 
smiles,  after  a  little. 

Dorcas  opened  the  box  with  a  small  key  which  she  carried  con- 
cealed in  the  bosom  of  her  dress.  To  Lucy's  surprise,  it  contained 
money  —  rolls  of  bills,  gold  and  silver  coin. 


264  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"There,  my  dear  missis  !  beg  you  will  count  all  de  money  in  this 
trunk  correct !  I  earn  heap  since  marse  and  missis  been  'way  to 
Europe.  I  must  be  free  —  and  this  money  and  more,  will  buy 
myself,  and  then  when  I  own  myself,  I  can  work  day  and  night  to 
buy  my  children." 

Lucy,  who  like  most  other  women,  had  never  seen  or  held  large 
amounts  of  money,  was  pleased  with  Dorcas'  success.  She  said 
gleefully, — 

"  Why  Dorcas  !  you  have  more  money  than  I.  How  did  you,  a 
slave,  accumulate  so  much  .'*  " 

"May  be  not  so  much,  missis  ;  but  I  made  sweetmeats,  jellies 
and  marmalade  for  de  fine  ladies,  and  they  pay  me.  Sometimes 
they  give  me  some  orange,  and  I  buy  little  sugar  and  make  it  foi 
myself. to  sell  by  the  jar.  When  marse  and  missis  are  home,  I  pull 
down  my  curtains  after  they  is  all  bed,  and  make  marmalade  —  all 
de  ladies  buy.  Then  when  we  have  grand  company,  the  ladies 
give  me  pieces  of  silver,  and  every  cent  goes  in  this  ere  trunk. 
Sometimes,  in  Charleston,  I  buys  the  orange  and  sits  up  most  all 
night,  in  my  rockin-chair,  watchin  and  stirrin  the  sugar  and  orange, 
and  thinkin  of  the  happy  day  when  I  shall  hand  the  whole  price  to 
marse  aad  get  my  free  papers.  Do  missis  count  it  true^  and  I  will 
'member  how  much." 

She  poured  the  contents  on  the  table.  Bill  by  bill  the  amount 
increased. 

"  Two  hundred  dollars  in  bills  !  '^  said  Lucy.  She  ran  over  the 
gold,  placing  it  by  itself.  "  Thirty-five  dollars  in  gold  !  "  she  added. 
'•  Twenty  dollars  in  silver !  "  She  placed  the  old  heavy  copper 
cents  in  piles  of  ten  each,  making  sixty-seven  cents. 

"  How  much,  missis  ?  " 

"Three  hundred  and  fifty-five  dollars  and  sixty-seven  cents!" 
answered  Lucy,  smiling. 

"Is  that  a  heap,  missis?  Let  Dorcas  say  !  Tree  hundred  and 
ninety-five  dollars,  never  mind  cents." 

"  No  !  Three  hundred  and  fifty-five  !  Three  hundred  —  and  — 
fifty-five  ! " 

"  Tree  hundred  and  sixty-five  ! "  repeated  the  housekeeper. 

"No!  not  right  yet!"  patiently  replied  Lucy.  "Fifty  —  fifty- 
five!" 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  265 

"  Tree  hundred  fifty-five !  Tree  hundred  fifty-five !  "  repeated 
Dorcas. 

Lucy  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

*'  Is  tree  hundred  and  fifty-five  a  half  of  twelve  hundred,  dear 
missis .'' " 

"Not  a  half,  Dorcas,  but  well  towards  it!  "  unwilling  to  discour- 
age her.     "  Is  that  your  value .?  " 

"Yes,  missis.  You  see  I'se  sound,  and  good  housekeeper,  take 
all  care  from  the  ladies.     They  read,  sing,  walk,  ride.     I  do  all." 

She  replaced  the  amount  in  the  box,  locked  it  carefully,  and 
returned  it  to  a  safe  hiding-place. 

"I  shall  get  twelve  hundred  dollars  if  I  have  to  wait  till  I  is  old. 
If  I  could  have  the  wages  of  my  two  girls,  I  should  make  up  my  price 
soon.  Madge  is  hired  out  for  four  dollars,  and  Dell  for  three 
dollars  a  month.     How  much  is  that  for  a  year  Miss  Lucy  ?  " 

"  Eighty-four  dollars  !  nearly  a  hundred." 

"Weill"  she  replied  with  a  deep  sigh,  "  old  mistress  has  all 
that,  and  to  them  its  only  a  drop  in  the  bucket." 

She  presented  Lucy's  parasol,  inviting  her  to  go  down  to  the 
conservatory  and  garden,  to  inspect  the  new  plants  in  pots,  sent 
from  Charleston  during  Lucy's  absence.  The  conservatory  v/in- 
dows  were  all  open  to  the  air,  and  the  bewildering  array  of  flowers 
of  every  fragrance  and  color,  occupied  some  time.  Dorcas  knew 
the  strangers'  names,  and  interested  Lucy  with  their  probable  uses 
during  the  winter. 

'*  Mistress  will  bring  a  Paris  florist,  who  will  force  them  to  blos- 
som in  abundance  for  de  great  parties.  " 

They  entered  the  house,  traversed  the  chambers  and  parlors, 
resplendent  to  Lucy's  view,  with  carpets,  curtains,  pictures  and 
statuary.  At  last  Dorcas  ushered  Lucy  into  the  small  family  dining- 
room.  The  table  was  set  for  one.  Dorcas  stepped  to  the  chair, 
and  drew  it  back,  saying  with  a  courtesy, — 

"Be  seated,  dear  young  lady.  Take  some  refreshment.  Let 
Dorcas  be  happy  in  waitin." 

After  some  laughter  and  parleying,  Lucy  took  the  seat  at  dinner. 
There  was  a  brace  of  delicately  roasted  pheasants,  a  choice  bou- 
quet by  her  china  plate,  a  dessert  of  floating-island,  creamy  Char- 
lotte-russe,  orange  marmalade,  coffee  that   seemed  ready  to   filter 


266  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

through  the  thin  waxen  china  cup,  small  iced  cakes  and  a  glass  of 
purple  wine.  Dorcas  served,  changed  plates,  went  and  came,  ever 
taking  her  stand  at  the  back  of  Lucy's  chair. 

"  Partake,  my  dear  Madam  Steele,  of  all  before  you.  Do  your 
servant  that  honor." 

"  Do  myself  the  honor  and  pleasure,  rather  say  !  "  as  she  arose 
from  the  collation. 

Dorcas  detained  her  by  the  window,  and  remained  standing 
silently  by. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Lucy.  "Is  there  another  secret?  Speak 
on,  Dorcas,"  holding  her  dark  brown  hand  between  her  own. 

"  No  secret,  darlin ;  but  somethin  that  will  surely  come  to  pass  ! 
You  will  not  'low  de  truth  to  vex  you  ?  " 

"No,  Dorcas." 

"Well  then,  let  not  your  heart  be  troubled  about  this  fam'ly 
when  they  come.  They  is  so  proud,  so  blue  blood,  so  debble, 
that  they  will  not  notice  you,  honey,  any  more  than  their  slaves. 
This  dinner  is  your  last  one  in  this  *  Grand  Palais,'  this  winter. 
You  is  young  and  han'som,  like  a  queen,  but  they  will  ride  past 
you,  and  never  see  you.  They  will  never  'low  you  to  walk  up  the 
marble  steps  to  the  grand  door,  and  you  shall  never  come  at  all, 
except  to  wait  on  'em.  Never  mind,  dearie,  never  you  be  their 
servant.  Don't  look  after  'em  wishful,  or  cast  down  your  proud 
eyes  before  'em.  Don't  grieve  for  their  pleasures,  nor  covet  their 
possessions.     There's  a  curse  on  'em." 

Indignant  blood  mounted  to  Lucy's  temples. 

"  As  to  birth,  or  blood,  as  they  call  it,  my  pedigree  will  compare 
with  any.  My  mother's  lineage  traces  back  to  the  '  May  Flower.' 
and  my  father  has  the  coat  of  arms  of  his  English  ancestors. 
But  I  have  not  yet  learned  that  blood  or  wealth  should  exempt 
one  from  polite  courtesy  and  civility  to  others.  Dorcas,  you  have 
done  me  a  favor.     I  shall  be  on  my  guard." 

During  the  year,  by  the  influence  of  Mr.  Steele,  Edmund  Stone 
had  removed  South,  as  pastor  to  the  slaves  on  the  plantations 
"Success"  and  "  Snowfield."  He  occupied  a  low-browed  house 
on  a  high  bank,  sighting  the  river,  and  overshadowed  by  live-oaks. 
Soon  after  his  arrival,  the  Rev.  Stone's  directions  were  received 
from  his  friend,  Overseer  Steele,  after  this  manner.     He  rode  over 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  267 

to  see  the  "  man  of  God,"  settled  in  his  queer  parsonage,  and 
wore  a  broad-brimmed  planter's  hat,  and  high  boots  over  his 
pantaloons,  carrying  his  long,  black,  field  whip  in  hand.  The 
Rev.  Stone  brought  chairs  upon  the  weather-worn  boards  of  the 
roomy  piazza,  in  sight  of  the  early  cotton-pickers  in  the  whitening 
fields.  Sinking  down  in  the  chair,  his  head  almost  lost  between 
his  shoulders,  he  rolled  his  prominent,  servile  eyes  upon  Mr.  Steele, 
as  upon  his  kindest  benefactor. 

"  I  never  expected  to  see  this  interesting  sight !  "  pointing  to  the 
cotton-pickers. 

"  I  suppose  you  never  would  have  seen  it,  if  you  had  not  given 
the  right  construction  to  the  Bible  and  Constitution.  This  is  your 
reward." 

"  I  trust  I  shall  ever  be  faithful  to  national,  as  well  as  religious 
interests." 

"How  do  you  find  things  ?  Like  the  climate,  and  this  herd  of 
black  faces  about  you  ?  " 

"The  climate  is  like  wine  to  the  weary;  but  these  black  faces 
are  all  alike  to  me.  I  cannot  tell  them  apart,  or  scarcely  the  old 
from  the  young." 

"  It  is  often  so  ;  but  they  will  come  out  in  their  strong  individ- 
uality, after  a  time.     Does  mammy,  the  old  cook,  suit  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I'm  learning  to  like  her  bacon  and  hominy,  with  occasion- 
ally a  fried  chicken.  She  can't  keep  the  house  neat ;  she's  too  old  ; 
can't  go  about  on  her  crutch." 

"  You  must  have  a  handsome  young  negro  wife.  You  know 
you  found  marriage  difficult  North,  amongst  those  dainty  v/hite 
misses.  You  must  have  a  dark  wife,  Edmund;  no  need  of  mar- 
riage here.  She'll  tidy  you  up ;  and  if  she  don't,  why  take  the 
whip." 

The  pastor's  astonishment  became  evident  to  the  overseer. 

"Oh,  you'll  get  used  to  color  soon  enough.  Amalgamation  is 
the  rule  here.  These  Southerners  cry  out  '  Amalgamation  ' 
against  the  North,  but  I  always  laugh  in  my  sleeve  when  I  hear 
it.  Amalgamation  is  a  Southern  practice,  not  a  Northern,  and 
they  knew  it." 

"  I  rode  over  to  instruct  you  how  to  preach  to  your  parish.  I 
expect  I  know  them  better  than  a  green  band." 


268  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Any  suggestions  will  be  thoughtfully  received,  William." 

"Very  well.  In  the  first  place,  you  need  write  no  sermons.  Use 
the  simplest  every-day  words,  when  you  want  them  to  understand  ; 
also  the  shortest  sentences.  Preach  hell-fire  strong !  Make  the 
infernal  regions  deep  and  broad !  Blow  up  the  fires,  old  fellow,  hot 
and  red  !  Shake  'em  over  it,  if  they  dare  set  up  their  own  thoughts 
or  wills.  By  so  doing  3'ou  will  play  into  the  hands  of  Fairland,  the 
master,  and  render  the  overseer's  task  easier.  For  heaven,  pile  up 
the  golden  crowns  and  spread  out  the  green  fields,  where  each  one 
will  bask  in  the  sun,  and  rest  forever.  Coax  'em  with  heaven,  and 
drive  'em  with  hell.  You  know  how  to  do  it  if  anybody  does,"  he 
added,  with  a  loud,  ostentatious  laugh  that  the  cotton-picker's 
heard. 

"There  seems  to  be  a  difficulty  in  singing  the  hymns,  as  they 
can't  read." 

"  Of  course  they  can't  read  !  The  devil  would  be  lo  pay  if  they 
could !  Line  'em  out,  Edmund,  line  'em  out !  Line  out  some  new 
ones  about  the  wrath  of  God  and  damned  souls !  " 

*'  Certainly,  Mr.  Steele  ;  my  own  memory  will  supply  them." 

"Another  thing,"  resumed  the  overseer;  "give  them  prayer- 
meetings —  encourage  them  all  to  pray  and  speak.  Let  'em  shout, 
jump,  or  lose  their  strength, —  anything  to  keep  'em  up  to  religion. 
But  mind  one  thing.  Edmund,  you  must  always  be  there  yourself, 
for  that  is  our  law.  There  shall  be  no  gathering  of  negroes  with- 
out the  presence  of  a  white  person.  Do  they  bring  you  anything 
to  help  you  live?" 

"Yes ;  some  articles  out  of  their  poverty." 

"Poverty!  Edmund.  Poverty  is  their  normal  inheritance.  They 
are  property  themselves.  i\Iake  it  a  rule  that  they  shall  bring  you 
so  many  eggs  a  week,  and  so  many  wild  ducks  and  fowls ;  put  the 
number  high  enough.  If  you  have  more  than  a  supply,  box  them 
up  and  send  them  to  Charleston,  in  exchange  for  coffee,  tea  and 
suo'ar.  Your  salary  is  small,  but  you  can  manage  to  lay  up  as 
much  as  you  would  in  the  North.  There  are  no  fashions  to  fol- 
lov;  here  —  no  company  to  entertain."  Striking  his  host  playfully 
with  the  black  whip,  "  Old  fellow,  you  will  lead  a  roystering  life 
here.  Do  as  you  please,  and  no  sermons  to  write  —  so  good  day." 
As  he  mounted  his  horse,  he  turned  to  say,  "  Come  over  and  see 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  269 

US  —  Lucy  will  give  you  a  welcome.  Let  one  of  the  boys  drive  you 
over  in  the  mule  cart." 

After  Major  Fairland's  family  were  settled  at  "  Le  Grand  Palais," 
Lucy,  forewarned  by  Dorcas,  set  herself  about  making  her  own 
observations.  Dorcas  was  right.  Festivities  of  all  kinds  crowned 
the  winter  days.  Gayety  and  mirth  overflowed  at  the  "great 
house."  But  never  an  invitation,  a  call  or  recognition  of  any  kind 
relieved  the  monotony  of  Lucy's  solitude.  Of  a  Sabbath,  the  ele- 
gant carriages  of  the  master  of  the  place,  and  those  of  their  guests, 
driven  by  liveried  coachmen,  passed  her  haughtily  on  the  roadside, 
without  the  si  ightest  salutation. 

She  observed,  also,  that  her  husband  seldom  or  ever  entered  the 
abode  of  Major  Fairland.  She  had  repeatedly  seen  William  stand 
at  the  foot  of  the  matble  steps  most  obsequiously,  with  hat  in  hand, 
and  with  head  bared  like  the  slaves,  holding  the  communications 
necessary  between  master  and  overseer.  Once,  she  saw  him  stand 
for  some  moments  in  a  dripping  rain,  in  that  manner,  without  an 
invitation  to  ascend  to  the  shelter  of  the  piazza.  This  act  roused 
Lucy  to  an  expression  of  long  repressed  indignation,  and  of  the 
deep  abhorrence  she  felt  at  his  humiliation. 

"William,"  she  said,  "why  did  you  stay  at  Fairland's  gate  bare- 
headed in  the  rain.?" 

"Because  it  is  customary,  my  dear." 

"  How  can  you  submit  to  such  servility?  You  are  counted  no 
better  than  an  African  slave. " 

"African  slaves  do  not  have  a  salary,  and  I  do.  I  buy  and  sell 
negroes  myself.  I  could  not  do  that  North.  It  is  a  profitable 
business  all  round." 

"  Profit  will  never  heal  my  wounded  self-respect.  William.,  we 
are  neither  one  of  us  considered  any  better  than  Mr.  Fairland's 
bloodhounds,  required  to  lick  their  master's  feet.  It  is  unbear- 
able!  Let  us  change  our  business,  and  leave  this  land  of  lords 
and  serfs." 

"That  would  not  be  for  my  interest  at  present.  It  would  be 
impossible.  I  should  be  obliged  to  sell  Binah  and  her  girl,  and 
their  two  children.  You  see  the  children  are  getting  more  val- 
uable every  year,  and  you  know  I  am  getting  sixty  dollars  a  year 


270  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

for  their  services  besides.  I  should  have  to  sell  Marquis,  and  lose 
his  wages  every  year  —  two  hundred  and  forty  dollars." 

"O  VVilliam  !  I  do  not  believe  in  holding  slaves.  It  is  cruel  and 
wrong !  " 

"  Take  care,  Lucy  !  You  are  on  dangerous  ground.  Then  you 
have  lost  faith  in  the  Bible  ?  Strange  !  You  knew  we  were  going 
amid  slavery  at  the  time  of  our  marriage." 

"I  had  not  witnessed  the  operation  of  the  system  personally, 
then,  his  wife  replied ;  "  and  more,  I  did  not  expect  we  were  to  be- 
come slavish  ourselves." 

VVilliam  Steele  had  at  least  a  respect  for  the  uprightness  of  his 
wife.  She  was  the  only  one  whose  judgment  he  feared.  He  re- 
plied soothingly, — 

•'  Come  now,  Lucy,  reflect.  In  a  few  years  I  shall  own  a  plan- 
tation. You  can  have  your  servants,  and  perhaps  your  carriage. 
Let  me  explain  to  you  how  our  matters  stand  now  ;  "  and  he 
opened  to  her  the  secret  of  his  possessions.  She  was  surprised,  but 
not  satisfied  ;  discontent  was  not  allayed.  Within  her  heart,  Wil- 
liam Steele  had  gradually  lost  ground.  Lucy  Clarendon  could  not 
love  the  crime  that  God  abhorred,  and  from  which  angels  veiled 
their  faces.  However,  this  was  //t-rsecret.  She  settled  into  a  quiet 
endurance  of  evils  she  could  not  remedy  ;  and  her  husband  was 
too  much  involved  in  his  duties,  and  in  getting,  gain  to  probe  her 
wishes  farther. 

As  to  the  absolute  cruelty  practised  on  the  gangs  in  the  field, 
she  knew  nothing.  When  riding  away  from  home,  occasional 
screams  reached  her  ears  ;  but  having  a  dread  of  suffering,  she 
w^ould  ride  away  without  investigation.  Latterly,  William  came 
home  with  blood  stains  upon  his  cuffs  and  garments.  To  her  in- 
quiries he  replied  indifferently,  that  he  was  subject  to  attacks  of 
nose  bleeding  ;  that  his  head  found  relief  from  it. 

Thus  the  months  and  years  glided  on.  It  was  their  custom  to 
visit  Rev.  Stone  twice  or  thrice  each  season.  Lucy  rode  her  pony 
over  alone,  through  the  pine  woods,  dallying  among  them  at  her 
pleasure  to  gather  either  jasmine  or  holly  berries.  In  the  evening 
William  came  for  her;  they  galloped  home  together.  On  one  of 
these  visits,  Lucy  had  taken  the  route  more  leisurely,  tempted  by 
the  cool  greenness,  the  flowers  and  moss.  Nearing  the  parsonage,  a 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  27 1 

thicket  of  beauty  walled  in  each  side  of  the  sandy  road.  At  her 
left,  shielded  by  a  yellow  jasmine  in  full  bloom,  emerged  a  slender^ 
dark  brown  girl.  Half  hidden  by  the  viny  curtains,  she  beckoned 
to  Lucy,  and  then  glided  back  to  her  retreat.  Lucy  reined  her 
pony  on  to  the  greensward,  around  the  tree  into  the  green  cham- 
ber, envelophd  by  the  thick  mantle  of  vines.  The  girl  quickly 
threw  her  arms  around  her  in  the  saddle,  and  raised  an  entreating 
look  to  her. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  young  missus  !  I  hear  you  is  so  good  !  beg  you 
to  listen  —  beg  you  to  help  !  I  is  libin  wid  Marse  Stone.  I  is  his 
black  wife.     He  — " 

"  No,  no,  it  cannot  be  !  "  quickly  answered  Lucy.  "  I  have  been 
to  the  minister's  house  every  season  !  I  have  never  seen  you  there. 
I  fear  you  are  deceiving  me."  For  a  moment  she  shrunk  from  her 
embrace,  as  from  a  maniac's  clutch. 

'•  jNIy  sweet  young  missus,  I  is  not  decebin  you.  Do  trus' 
Rachel !  see  how  my  heart  is  brake." 

A  flood  of  tears  fell  upon  Lucy's  riding  habit. 

"  Marse  Stone  dribe  me  'way  jes  fore  de  lady  come,  tell  me  if  I 
don't  stay  out  of  sight  till  you  is  gone,  he  will  gib  me  de  raw-hide. 
'Tis  de  trut*,  my  missus.  Listen  to  Rachel.  Had  young  husban' — 
tall,  handsome,  lib  wid  him  long  time.  Wese  lube  one  'nother. 
Dey  tuk  him  'way,  dunno  where.  Bring  me  here,  me  one  all  'lone. 
Make  me  lib  wid  dat  ugly  white  man,  and  — " 

"  Who  made  you  live  with  him  .?  " 

"  Marse  Stone  make  me  hisself.  When  I  cry  an'  grieve,  he  take 
de  black  whip.     Look  here,  missus." 

Quick  as  thought  she  bared  her  shoulders ;  and  for  the  first  time 
Lucy  looked  upon  scars  and  welts  injflicted  upon  a  human  form. 
Rachel  proceeded, — 

"  All  dat  did'n  do  no  good.  I  grieve  in  de  woods.  I  grieve 
when  he  don*  see  me.  I  want  you  to  buy  me,  dear  missus.  1  can't 
lib  wid  dat  man."  Her  voice  sank  to  a  whisper.  "I  hate  him! 
I  hate  him  !  "  She  sobbed  again,  "  beg  you  buy  me,  missus.  Work 
all  my  life  for  you." 

"  Tell  me  who  brought  you  here  ? "  demanded  Lucy,  a  dark  sus- 
picion flashing  across  her  mind. 

"  Don't  ask  me  dat,  dear  missus ;   neber  min'  who." 


272  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 


"Tell  me,  Rachel.  I  shall  never  expose  your  confidence.  I  am 
your  triend.     Tell  me  who  ?  " 

"  One  ob  de  oberseer." 

"  Which  overseer  ?     I  must  know.     Do  not  fear." 

"De  oberseer  at  'Grand  Palais!'"  whispered  the  frightened  girl. 

"Very  well,"  coldly  replied  Lucy,  controlling  herself  with  a 
strong  will,  which  of  late  had  grown  stronger.  She  leaned  over 
in  the  saddle,  and  said  in  a  low  tone  in  her  petitioner's  ear, — 

"  Poor  girl,  I  cannot  buy  you,  but  I  can  do  something  better. 
I  can  tell  you  how  to  free  yourself.  Follow  the  north  star  to 
Philadelphia.  Travel  by  night,  and  hide  by  day.  Heaven  will 
open  the  way.  Now  hear,  Rachel,  and  remember.  Pretend  to 
Edmund  Stone  to  be  content,  satisfied  ;  pretend  to  love  him. 
Laugh  and  be  merry.  Get  him  to  talk  about  the  North.  Lay 
your  plans,  and  keep  them  in  your  own  breast.  After  I  have 
made  one  more  visit  to  the  minister,  look  in  this  hollow  tree  upon 
which  the  vine  hangs.  Money  will  be  there.  It  will  be  yours. 
Take  it  to  spend  on  your  way,  to  buy  bread,  and  to  pay  some  slave 
to  help  you  along,  and  go  when  you  are  ready.  Now,  Rachel, 
keep  the  secret,  and  be  careful.  Wait  here  till  I  turn  the  corner 
near  the  house,  under  the  live-oak." 

The  dinner  was  waiting  when  Lucy  arrived.  Old  mammy  sat 
low  down  on  the  hearth  before  the  fire,  roasting  and  toasting  and 
turning,  to  keep  the  viands  hot.  She  hobbled  about  on  her  crutch 
as  lively  as  possible,  brought  in  fried  chicken,  roast  ducks,  hoe- 
cake,  and  a  nicely  iDrowned  pound  cake  from  the  safe.  Rev. 
Stone  cheerfully  assisted. 

While  sitting  at  table,  Lucy  condoled  the  loneliness  of  Mr. 
Stone. 

''You  must,"  she  said  sympathetically,  "be  sorely  tried  with 
such  poor  help  as  mammy  offers  ;  although  she  doubtless  does  her 
best." 

"Mrs.  Steele,"  (he  laid  down  his  fork,  and  peered  into  her  face 
with  a  brazen  staring  look,)  "it  has  ever  been  my  privilege  and 
pleasure,  to  suffer  for'Christ's  sake.  I  am  alone  with  mammy,  it  is 
true,  but  my  solitude  is  mitgated  by  the  satisfaction  of  knowing 
that  I  am  laboring  in  the  Lord's  vineyard,  and  that  my  life  is  dedi- 
cated to  His  glory." 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  273 

A   comforting  assurance,  Mr.  Stone  ;    but   you  must  be  an  ex- 
cellent housekeeper,  judging  from  the  order  and   neatness  of  your 


rooms  "' 


"  Years  ago,  in  my  scholastic  pursuits,  I  gave  personal  attention 
to  the  arrangements  of  my  rooms  — for  you  understand,  dear  Mrs. 
Steele,  that  this  deformity  with  which  Heaven  has  been  pleased  to 
endow  me,  precludes  the  hope  of  the  near  wifely  companionship, 
so  dear  to  the  Christian  heart.  I  am  a  lonely  and  unloved  man, 
and  my  own  crucified  earthly  affections,  I  trust,  are  transferred  to 
the  safe  and  o?ily  keeping  of  my  Savior." 

Lucy  was  seized  with  a  sudden  fit  of  coughing,  and  buried  her 
contemptuous  smiles  in  her  handkerchief.  After  recovering,  she 
suggested  that  a  solitary  life  like  his,  might  be  conducive  to  greater 
holiness. 

"Mrs.  Steele,  I  would  most  gratefully  acknow^ledged  that  as  my 
experience.  In  a  solitary  life  the  passions  are  hushed  to  peace, 
inordinate  desires  are  quelled,  the  sacred  volitions  of  the  pious 
soul  go  up  to  God  untrammeled  by  sinful  desire.  It  is  sometimes 
good  for  man  to  be  alone." 

The  blood  mounted  to  her  forehead  and  temples,  at  such  un- 
heard of  audacity.  Again  recourse  was  had  to  coughing  and  her 
handkerchief,  in  which  she  whispered  to  herself, — 

"  The  hypocrite  !" 

After  dinner,  he  was  blandly  persuaded  by  his  guest  to  leave 
the  table  to  mammy  and  herself;  she,  warmly  pressing  him  to 
lay  aside  family  cares  for  one  short  afternoon.  Old  mammy  was 
delighted  with  her  assistant;  during  an  excursion  to  the  kitchen, 
Lucy  found  opportunity  to  ask  the  needful  question,  under 
mammy's  turban. 

"  Does  Rachel  live  here  ? " 

The  scared  old  soul  threw  up  her  hands,  and  groaned. 

"  Tell  me  !  "  reiterated  Lucy,  "  does  Rachel  live  here  ?  " 

Old  mammy  seized  Lucy's  hand  in  her  withered  fingers,  and 
whispered, — 

"Muss  say  de  trut',  dear  missis,"  nodding  low  and  solemnlv. 
She  clung  to  her,  moaning,  "De  pretty  young  missis  wont  tell  on 
poor  ole  mammy  ? " 

Again  Lucy's  head  bent  to  the  faded  turban. 


2  74  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  Is  Rachel  his  wife  ?  " 

The  old  head  nodded  low  and  silently. 

Lucy  took  a  turn  back  to  the  table ;  found  Edmund  Stone's 
stump  figure  exercising  on  the  piazza.  Another  errand  carried 
her  to  the  kitchen.  She  gave  the  crippled  old  slave  a  quick 
caress,  and  spoke  in  the  negro  dialect,  close  to  her  ear. 

"  Don't  be  afeered,  poor  old  mammy !  Lucy  will  never  tell  — 
safe  in  here,"  pointing  to  her  heart ;  and  flew  away  to  walk  fhe 
piazza  with  the  clergyman. 

After  Mr.  Steele's  arrival,  the  conversation  became  spiritual 
and  ecclesiastic.  The  rapid  growth  of  the  church,  North  and 
South,  was  a  subject  of  congratulation.  Grace  was  said  at  sup- 
per, and  devout  thanks  offered  by  her  husband.  Before  mount- 
ing their  horses  for  home,  Edmund  knelt  in  family  prayers, — 
prayers  for  all  nations,  all  persons  in  sickness,  in  bereavement, 
for  those  broken  in  spirit,  for  the  destitute,  and  for  those  without 
any  helper. 

Lucy's  smouldering  scorn  broke  into  fresh  flames  upon  hearing 
these  holy,  gentle  words,  on  his  sacrilegious  lips.  She  did  not 
pray  with  them,  but  sent  up  her  lonely  petitions,  winged  by  her 
pity  and  her  tears,  for  the  desolate,  spirit-broken,  dark  brown  girl 
of  the  jasmine  covert. 

The  crucial  test  of  Mrs.  Steele's  love,  pride,  womanhood  and 
religious  nature,  was  severe  ;  but  her  crystaline  quality  of  mind 
was  not  in  the  least  muddled.  In  weighing  the  events  of  her 
Southern  life,  the  revelations  of  to-day,  right  and  wrong  retained 
their  value.  The  results  were  legitimate  j  authoritively  deduced  from 
the  premises.  She  could  not  love  deception,  cruelty  or  despotism. 
With  these,  pride  forbade  compromise  or  complaint.  Her  own 
womanhood  was  trampled  and  debased  in  the  person  of  Rachel, 
and  she  doubted  «ot  in  the  person  of  all  the  slave  women  about 
her.  Her  religious  nature  revolted  at  the  subterfuges  of  the  wor- 
shippers of  Him  whose  throne  is  Justice  and  Truth.  The  tender 
trustful  affection  for  her  husband,  like  the  purple  bloom  of 
ripened  fruit,  had  been  rudely  brushed  away  ;  the  true  color  of  his 
depraved  character  became  more  and  more  apparent. 

William  Steele,  intent  on  his  profession,  and  grown  more  cal- 
lous and  brutish  by   daily    acts,    missed  not    the  tender  thrill   of 


WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  275 

his  wife's  voice,  he  missed  not  the  light-hearted  gayety  from  her 
laugh,  nor  the  eager  kindling  of  her  eye  tliat  formerly  met  every 
return  of  his  footstep  homeward.  He  knew  not  that  she  had 
settled  into  a  calm  and  silent  detestation  of  his  course  of  life,  and 
her  own  surroundings. 

Rachel  watched  the  last  flutter  of  Lucy's  riding  habit,  as  her 
pony  parted  the  veil  of  moss  depending  from  the  live-oak  at  the 
c&rner  ;  then  threw  herself  upon  the  ground  in  her  jasmine  covert, 
to  untangle  the  strange  advice  of  her  new-found  friend.  Rapid 
thoughts  revolved  confusedly.  She  had  already  forgotton  the 
word  "Philadelphia."  She  remembered  "  North  Star;"  and  her 
gaze  went  hastily  up  through  the  tall  pine  branches,  meeting  only 
deep,  blue  patches  of  sky  between  their  openings.  She  would  ask 
mammy.  All  her  secrets  and  sorrows  were  safe  with  that  poor  old 
body  j  and  true  enough,  the  memory'  flashed  upon  her  that  mammy 
had  traveled  "  Norf  "  wdth  her  mistress  many  times  in  her  young 
days. 

She  was  also  to  feign  attachment  for  Edmund  Stone,  and  to  draw 
him  into  conversation  about  the  North.  A  suggestive  smile  played 
over  her  face.  She  would  deceive  him  —  why  not  ?  A  slave's  life 
was  one  tissue  of  deception  from  the  nature  of  things.  A  slave 
must  appear  to  love  and  revere  his  master,  when  hatred  lay  at  his 
heart's  core.  A  slave  must  sing  and  be  merry,  when  a  death  sor- 
row tugged  at  his  heart  strings. 

"  I  could  do  dat,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  dough  I  hate  him  !  hate 
him  !  hate  him  !  " 

Thoughts  of  her  dark  slave-husband,  lithe  and  agile  as  a  deer, 
straight  as  a  pine  and  pleasant  as  the  sunshine,  drove  all  else  from 
her  mind.  A  flood  of  tears  dropped  upon  the  ground  ;  her  resolu- 
tion to  fly  away  and  make  herself  free   became  firmer  than  ever. 

The  drama  should  open  that  very  afternoon  with  William  Steele, 
the  heartless  man  \vho  had  torn  her  from  all  she  loved.  She  knew 
that  the  way  of  his  approach  to  the  clergyman's  abode,  was  in  a 
different  direction  from  that  of  his  wife ;  that  he  came  in  a  by  path 
over  rough  fields,  and  returned  by  the  pleasant  piny  road.  Her 
last  effort  before  going  out  upon  her  purpose  was  the  usual  wrest- 
ling in  a  rude  prayer  for  aid  in  the  undertaking. 

"  De  good  Lord  show  de  way.     De  blessed  Marster  in   Heaben 


276  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

keep  'way  de  bloodhoun'.  Tak'  'way  de  cloud  in  de  dark  night 
from  de  Nort'  Star  Merciful  Sabior,  don'  let  Rachel's  foot  git  in 
de  buckra  net.  Blessed  Jesus,  let  de  poor  slabe  go  free.  King 
Jesus  wid  de  golden  crown,  'member  Guy,  all  I  lub  on  dis  cold 
eart'.     Blessed  Spirit,  tell  him  I  is  gone,  gone  'way." 

Her  prayer  was  mingled  with  groans,  tears  and  agonized  rocking 
of  her  figure,  to  and  fro.  She  arose,  dried  her  eyes  with  her  dress. 
The  wild  bees'  hum  caught  her  ear. 

"  De  bees  busy.     Rachel  mus'  busy  too." 

Keeping  out  of  sight  of  the  house,  she  went  across  the  fields  and 
woodland  patches  to  Mr.  Steele's  bridle  path,  and  waited  his  com- 
ing. At  the  sound  of  his  galloping  horse,  she  fell  to  pulling  flow- 
ers ;  and  met  him  with  a  courtesy,  and  a  smiling  "  how  d'e  mas- 
ter." 

"  Hey  !  girl,  you  seem  in  better  humor,  Guess  the  minister's 
whip  has  made  you  sing  a  different  tune.  Like  Master  Stone  now, 
hey  ? " 

She  dropped  another  courtesy,  saying  with  a  happy  face, — 

'•  Come  to  tell  Marser  Steele,  I  likes  Marse  Stone  now.  I  pull 
flowers  for  his  table." 

"You  like  Marse  Stone  better'n  Guy?"  he  asked. 

"  Better'n  all,  Marse  Steele.  Him  nice  gentleman,"  dropping 
her  courtesy. 

"  So  so,  gal,  you'll  fare  better  then,"  he  replied.  "  Better  look 
after  your  soul,  gal.  Salvation's  in  the  preacher's  house, —  get 
saved  while  you're  with  him,  from  the  sinner's  hell.  Pray  fast; 
and  mend  your  ways."     He  galloped  on. 

During  the  intervals  betw^een  visits,  Edmund  Stone  was  aston- 
ished by  the  change  in  Rachel.  Attentive  to  his  wants,  and  affec- 
tionate in  her  manner,  she  caused  his  days  to  glide  by  without  a 
care.  She  arose  singing  with  the  lark,  laid  dewy  flowers  on  the 
breakfast  table,  arranged  his  small  theological  library,  and  called 
him  "  an  angel  of  de  Lord."  He  doted  upon  her,  calling  her 
his  "household  angel."  In  his  walks,  she  followed  him  like  a 
faithful  spaniel ;  drew  him  in  at  eve  from  the  dangerous  damps,  and 
seating  herself  by  his  side,  begged  him  to  tell  her  all  about  his 
North  people  ;  how  he  learned  so  much  wisdom.  As  she  often 
stood  combing  his  wiry  hair,  she  would  ask  him  how  he  could  come 


WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  277 

South  to  Jove  Rachel  and  deal  so  kindly  with  her?  She  expressed 
contrition  for  her  past  sins,  and  desired  to  be  saved  by  his  holy 
prayers. 

On  Sundays,  she  insisted  upon  remaining  at  home,  to  superintend 
a  roasting  duck,  a  sweet  potato  pone,  or  the  berry  dumpling  ;  and, 
as  she  said,  to  have  them  smoking  on  the  table  when  he  stepped 
over  the  threshold. 

These  were  the  opportunities  in  which  she  held  secret  council 
with  old  mammy  —  learned  of  Philidelphia  and  New  York;  besides 
various  other  suggestions  of  worth  to  a  fugitive. 

About  the  time  for  the  next  stated  visit  to  the  parsonage,  Lucy 
learned  that  her  husband  and  his  friend  Stone  would  make  a  jour- 
ney to  Charleston  soon  after.  She  wrote  a  pass  for  Rachel,  in 
excellent  imitation  of  the  minister's  chirography,  and  appended  his 
signature.  This  pass  ran  for  six  days.  She  examined  her  purse. 
The  bills  and  coin  were  all  too  large  for  the  ignorant  girl  who 
could  not  count  twelve.  Dorcas' box  of  freedom  savings  came  to 
mind.  She  stepped  over  to  "  Le  Grand  Palais,"  and  exchanged 
twenty  dollars  for  small  bits  and  dollar  bills.  These  she  placed 
in  a  small  purse  attached  to  a  long  cord  for  the  neck.  Galloping 
away  on  her  pony,  her  cheeks  flushed  with  excitement,  she  neared 
the  jasmine  vine.  She  pulled  a  few  flowers,  and  rode  around  be- 
neath its  shelter,  into  the  open  arms  of  Rachel. 

*-Muss  see  you  'gain,  my  dear  missis,  count  ob  de  good  news. 
I'se  seen  Guy,  my  Guy,  my  true  lub  !  De  blessed  Lord  sen'  Guy, 
I  sure  !  " 

"  Did  Mr.  Stone  get  an  inkling  of  his  visit .?  If  so,  Rachel,  we 
are  all  undone.     Do  say  quickly  how  and  when  you  saw  him." 

"Don'  be  afeered  honey!  we  is  all  saf't.  You  see  one  night 
when  wese  all  bed,  dere  wer'  great  rappin  to  de  doo',  and  a  cry- 
in,— 

*  Do  bressed  marster  come  to  de  rice  mill !  big  Sam  is  mos'  die  ! 
Beg  de  preacher  of  de  gospel  to  pray  ober  him  body  !  De  minister 
be  better'n  de  doctor.  Sam  be  hoopin  and  hollerin  on  de  floo' ! 
rollin  all  'bout.  Wese  gib  de  marster  two  duck  —  tree  —  ten  — 
tirteen  duck  to  come  and  pray  de  Lord  for  Sam ! ' " 

Marse  Stone  dressed  and  went  down.  Den  I  hear  a  small  voice 
at  de  window  call  "  Rache],  Rachel !  "     She  caught  hold  of  Lucy's 


278  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK  JUNE. 

riding  habit,  '"Bless  de  Lord,  O  my  dear  missis,  dat  voice  was  Guy. 
I  hurry  out,  he  hold  me  in  his  arms,  and  cry  as  his  heart  muss 
broke.  He  trabel  long  way,  swift  as  de  deer  to  see  me.  I  speak 
soft  to  him,  and  tell  all  ;  how  I  gwine  'way,  how  I  can't  be  minis- 
ter's wife.  Den  he  say  he  stay  in  de  woods  and  go  too.  I  say  no ! 
Guy,  wait !  I  go  first,  dey  will  hunt  both  more  dan  me,  one  !  Den 
I  give  him  corn-cake,  bacon,  two  fried  pheasant,  and  some  of 
Marse  Stone's  brandy  to  keep  him  up  when  he  trabel  back  dat 
same  night.  I  promise  to  be  nobody  wife  'cept  him,  and  I  shall 
wait  for  him  in  de  Nort'  till  I  die.  Den  when  I  cry  so,  he  kiss  my 
eyes,  and  say  '  good-bye.'  Oh  !  do,  sweet  missis,  'member  Guy  for 
poor  Rachel ! " 

"Yes,  I  will;  but  how  about  Sam,  and  Minister  Stone? " 

"  I  find  all  out,  honey.  Sam  made  b'leve  sick,  to  get  de  minis- 
ter 'way,  so  Guy  could  see  me.  I  went  down  to  de  mill,  to  come 
home  wid  Marse  Stone,  and  I  hear  Sam  hoopin  long  way  off. 
Marse  Stone  pray,  and  all  de  rest  shout.  When  I  come,  he  growed 
better,  said  he  was  most  cure.  Said  de  preacher  had  work  a  mera- 
cle.  Den  he  holler,  'Rachel,  you  mus'  lub  and  'vere  Marse  Stone.' 
Den  turn  his  head,  and  wink  at  me." 

"  So  we  have  nothing  to  fear.  Mr.  Steele  and  IMr.  Stone  are 
going  to  Charleston  to  be  absent  three  days;  they  go  the  day  after 
to-morrow  in  the  afternoon.  That  same  night  after  bed-time, 
Rachel,  leave  his  house,  travel  all  night,  look  out  for  the  patrol. 
Here  is  a  purse  of  money  that  will  last  you  more  than  all  the  way. 
Go  to  colored  people  in  Philadelphia  ;  they  will  direct  you.  Your 
pass  is  good  six  days  after  you  start.  When  your  pass  is  done, 
change  your  name ;  and  do  not  expose  yourself.  Farewell !  my 
poor  girl." 

Lucy  spoke  in  a  tremulous  voice,  holding  both  Rachel's  hands 

in  hers, — 

"God  watch  over  you  !  " 

She  rode  hastily  away,  lest  the  evidence  of  emotion  should  be- 
tray her. 

Lucy  observed  that  the  apartments  at  the  parsonage  were  more 
neatly  arranged  than  ever  before. 

^Ir.  Steele  arrived  earlier  than  usual.  The  party  took  seats  on 
the  broad,  low-roofed  piazza,  where  glimpses  of  the  blue  river,  and 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  279 

of  the  gieen,  lush  waves  of  the  rice  swamps  attracted  the  eye. 
Upland  cotton-fields  were  set  against  a  background  of  distant  ame- 
thystine haze.  Ancient  live-oaks  over- arched  the  weather-worn 
roof,  and  solemnly  swung  their  gray  beards  of  moss  about  the 
eaves  and  hard-trodden  paths.  The  bland,  caressing  breeze 
wafted  in  the  deep  melancholy  music  of  baying  hounds,  and  the 
sweet  pathos  of  a  rich,  flute-like  African  voice,  extemporizing  a 
mournful  song. 

These  measured  sounds  formed  an  undertone  to  the  brilliant 
Capf'iccios  of  mocking  birds  in  the  oaks ;  Capriccios  embellished 
with  trills,  appeggios  and  inimitable  cadenzas. 

"  What  a  paradise  of  golden  sunlight,  spontaneous  beauty,  and 
dreamy  indolence  this  South  is  !  "  ejaculated  Lucy.  "Its  sights 
and  melody  creep  over  the  senses  like  balm,  and  lull  them  to  a 
rapturous  languor,  beyond  the  power  of  language  I " 

*'■  Glad  to  hear  my  wife  express  pleasure  and  satisfaction  with  the 
South,  my  dear,"  replied  her  husband. 

"  I  was  speaking  of  its  natural  attractions,"  replied  Lucy. 

"  Slavery  may  well  be  considered  one  of  the  natural  attractions 
of  the  South,  for  it  is  coexistent  with  its  settlement.  The  very  life 
of  South  Carolina  is  dependent  upon  it.  In  1788,  General  Pinkney 
declared  in  the  debate  on  the  Constitution,  that  "  South  Carolina 
and  Georgia  cannot  do  without  slaves,  and  the  slave  trade."  These 
two  States  would  have  seceded  then  and  there  from  the  Union, 
without  slavery,  and  the  slave  trade.  They  have  improved  and 
beautified  the  land,  making  it  just  what  you  admire." 

"  Then  if  the  South  cannot  do  without  slavery,  what  would  be  its 
condition  if  sometime  it  should  be  abolished.? " 

"A  preposterous  idea,  Lucy.  It  is  imbedded  in  the  Constition, 
and  Congress  cannot  lay  a  disturbing  finger  upon  it.  The  meddling 
with  it  is  exclusively  a  State  right,  and  of  course,  no  Slave  State 
will  cut  off  its  own  right  hand,  or  sever  the  artery  containing  its 
life's  blood  !  " 

"  But  have  religion  and  humanity  nothing  to  do  with  a  Constitu- 
tion and  laws  for  a  republic? " 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Steele,"  earnestly  interposed  the  host,  "  allow  me 
to  quote  to  you  the  judicial  opinion  of  our  god-like  Webster,  in  a 
speech  delivered  at  Niblo's  garden  in  New  York,  and  you  will  ac- 


28o  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

knowledge  with  Mr.   Steele  and  myself,  a  justifiable  pride  in  his 
majestic  and  impressive  oratory." 

He  brought  the  speech  from  his  study,  and  read, — 

"Slavery,  as  it  exists  in  the  States,  is  beyond  the  reach  of  Con- 
gress. It  is  a  concern  of  the  States  themselves ;  they  have  never 
submitted  it  to  Congress,  and  Congress  has  no  rightful  power  over 
it." 

According  to  this  lofty  and  candid  judgment,  the  Constitution 
holds  slavery  '''  in pe?'petuu?)i.''^ 

"  But  have  religion  and  humanity  nothing  to  do  with  drafting  a 
Constitution,  and  shaping  Republican  laws.**  "  she  queried.  "  I  ap- 
peal to  you,  Mr.  Stone,  as  an  expounder  of  sacred  ethics  1  " 

She  said  this  with  a  conciliatory  smile,  at  the  same  time  extend- 
ing her  hand  for  the  speech  on  annaxation. 

Ever  taken  captive  by  the  smile  of  woman,  his  sallow  face  twisted 
into  its  sickly  reflection,  while  he  answered  evasively, — 

"  Mrs  Steele,  a  more  religious  people  cannot  be  found  than  the 
North  ;  and  almost  universally  the  church  champions  our  Southern 
institution ;  and  our  Northern  politicians,  nursed  in  this  religious 
sentiment,  generally  strive  to  propitiate  the  goodwill  of  the  Slave 
States,  by  their  adherence  to  Constitutional  obligations.  Edward 
Everett,  of  Massachusetts,  when  he  first  entered  Congress,  declared 
of  slaver}',  that  *  While  it  subsists,  and  where  it  subsists,  its  duties 
are  presupposed  and  sanctioned  by  religion.'  " 

"But  you  know,  Edmund,  many  Southerners  sharply  dissented 
from  Mr.  Everett ;  and  John  Randolph  of  Virginia  said  with  keen 
sarcasm,  '  Sir,  I  envy  neither  the  head  nor  the  heart  of  that  man 
from  the  North  who  rises  here  to  defend  slavery  upon  principle.' 
You  see  the  North  must  have  every  subject,  institution  and  object 
decorated  and  garnished  with  some  pious  vine,  which  sprung  from 
'May  Flower'  seed.  Their  religion  is  a  parasite  —  like  this  gray 
moss  swaying  about  the  piazza  here,  with  this  exception,  that  it 
draws  its  life  from  every  kind  of  wood  —  from  the  apple  tree  to  the 
oak  and  pine.  Their  pious  excuse  of  brotherly  good  vv^ishes  swings 
in  your  face  alike  from  the  church  spire  and  the  gallows  —  from 
the  flagstaff  of  freedom  and  the  lash  of  the  slave-driver's  black 
whip.  They  chafe  under  self-inflicted  torments  about  right  and 
wrong, —  then   sanction    black  deeds,    and  mollify   conscience   by 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK  JUNE.  28 1 

prayers  and  hymns.  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  with  Mr. 
Pinkney  of  this  State,  in  the  debate  upon  slavery  in  the  Constitu- 
tion ;  that  *  Religion  and  humanity  have  nothing  to  do  with  this 
question.     Interest  alone  is  the  governing  principle  with  nations.'" 

"  That  is  truth  !  "  croaked  the  voice  of  Rev.  Stone.  "  The  true 
interest  in  the  North  produces  the  heaviest  parasitic  fleece  of 
brotherly  love  for  the  South,  and  its  domestic  institution.  They 
would  be  unwilling  to  lose  the  Southern  market  for  their  manufac- 
tures." 

"  My  dear  husband,"  said  Lucy,  laying  her  hand  upon  his 
shoulder, —  "  I  too  have  read  those  Constitutional  debates  lent  you 
by  Mr.  Fairland.  There  was  one  outspoken  Southerner  among 
them  —  Colonel  George  ]\lason  of  Virginia.  He  says  —  '  Every 
master  of  a  slave  is  born  a  petty  tyrant.  They  bring  the  judg- 
ment of  Heaven  on  a  country.  Now  hear!'  he  continues  —  'As 
nations  cannot  be  punished  in  the  next  world,  they  must  be  in 
this.  By  an  inevitable  chain  of  causes  and  effects,  Providence 
punishes  national  sins,  by  national  calamities.'" 

Holding  one  of  her  auditors  by  her  palm,  and  the  other  by  the 
pleasing  gleam  of  her  eye,  she  asked, — 

"  Is  this  a  prophecy,  Mr.  Stone  ?  Does  it  not  become  this  na- 
tion to  free  itself  from  a  crime,  around  which  will  swirl  in  a  blind- 
ing storm  the  wrath  of  a  long-suffering  God  ? " 

"Nonsense,  Lucy,"  angrily  retorted  her  husband.  "Do  you 
not  Vv'itness  the  increasing  prosperity  of  our  country  from  that 
very  day  on  which  these  venomous  words  were  uttered  ?  Lucy, 
I  am  startled.  You  are  an  agitator  !  a  fanatic  !  On  this  piazza, 
your  words  are  falling  upon  friendly  ears,  but  I  entreat  j^ou,  nay, 
I  demand  that  such  inflammatory  language  shall  never  fall  again 
from  your  lips.  If  you  persist,  the  prison  here,  or  immediate 
banishment  will  be  your  punishment.  From  either  sentence,  I, 
even  I,  could  not  save  you." 

He  was  excitedly  pacing  the  piazza.  Lucy  rose,  and  with  a 
merry  laugh  took  his  arm. 

"  Our  social  intercourse  is  not  so  extended  that  there  is  danger 
of  a  conflagration  !  "  she  remarked  soothingly.  "  I  should  judge 
that  the  air  of  this  State  is  foul.  The  atmosphere  is  inflammatory, 
not    my  language.     Doubtless  I  should  wear  on    my  lips    a   wire 


282  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

gauze  protector,  like  that  on    Sir    Humphrey  Davy's  safety  lamp, 
used  by  the  miners  in  the  explosive  gasses  of  the  mines." 

"Wear  anything,  my  dear,  that  will  muzzle  or  stifle  the  danger- 
ous utterances  in  which  you  have  just  indulged.  The  South  will 
not  have  agitation.  Through  Congress  it  has  laid  its  silent  hand 
on  the  lips  of  the  North.  Did  I  not  read  to  you  the  resolutions  of 
Charles  G.  Atherton  of  New  Hampshire,  which  passed  by  an  over- 
whelming majority  ?" 

"I  concluded,  WilHam,  that  concerned  men,  politicians  —  not 
women.     They  have  slipped  my  memory." 

"They  imprison  and  banish  women  here,"  he  replied.  "  Re- 
member now.  The  climax  of  Atherton's  resolutions  is,  'That  every 
petition,  memorial,  resolution,  proposition  or  paper,  touching,  or 
relating  in  any  way  whatever  to  slavery,  as  aforesaid ;  that  is,  with 
a  view  of  disturbing  or  overthrowing  that  institution,  or  the  aboli- 
tion thereof,  shall,  on  the  presentation  thereof,  without  any  further 
action  thereon,  be  laid  on  the  table,  without  being  debated,  printed 
or  referred.' 

"This  is  Congressional  logic.  Now  every  State  has  a  right  to 
make  its  own  special  provisions  against  agitation.  Some  of  these 
provisions  are  bowie-knives,  revolvers,  the  gallows,  prisons,  and  re- 
wards of  five  to  ten  thousand  dollars  for  the  heads  or  bodies  of 
agitators." 

Lucy  stepped  in  front  of  her  husband,  and  playfully  holding  him 
by  both  lapels,  said  archly, — 

"  I  stand  appalled !  Henceforth  I  become  a  disciple  of  Sir 
Humphrey  Davy!  Allow  me  to  retire  from  the  contemplation  of 
barbarism,  to  dressmaking  for  old  mammy." 

"  A  much  more  fitting  employment  for  my  wife,  than  striving 
with  her  delicate  hands  to  loosen  the  corner-stone  of  the  Constitu- 
tion." 

She  flew  away,  and  brought  back  to  Rev.  Stone  a  stout,  new, 
gingham  dress  pattern,  querying, — 

''  If  the  making  of  it  for  old  mammy  would  be  an  offense  to 
'  State  Rights.'  or  endanger  the  Constitution  ?  Old  mammy  is  so 
good  to  you,  keeps  your  rooms  so  neatly,  I  wish  to  reward  her 
fidelity." 

A  hearty  laugh  followed,  and  tranquility  was  restored. 


>  5> 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  283 

"Go  look  in  Edmund's  bedroom,"  suggested  Mr.  Steele,  "and 
see  what  a  blessing  old  mammy  is  to  him." 

Lucy  entered,  and  saw  thrown  over  the  foot  of  the  French  bed- 
stead a  pink  gingham  dress  and  a  pretty  white  apron,  —  a  casualty 
which  she  fully  understood.  There  were  snowy  pillows  and  counter- 
pane curtains  gracefully  looped,  clean  matting,  orderly  books,  and 
a  bouquet  of  sweet  flowers  in  a  vase  upon  the  stand. 

"  Poor  Rachel,"  she  soliloquized  ;  "  a  victim  to  '  State  Rights.' 

She  stepped  upon  the  piazza. 

"  Mr.  stone,  I  congratulate  you  upon  your  home  comforts.  Old 
mammy  deserves  a  new  dress  in  return  for  her  neat-handed  care 
for  you.  Husband,  you  could  not  have  procured  a  better  house- 
keeper for  Mr.  Stone  than  mammy.     Adieu." 

Left  to  themselves,  Mr.  Stone  unburdened  his  troubled  soul  to 
his  guest,  respecting  a  letter  which  the  boy  brought  from  the 
post-ofiice  the  day  previous.  It  had  been  opened,  and  was  en- 
closed to  him  in  another  envelope, 

"  How  is  this  ?  "  the  clergyman  inquired.  "  Can  our  letters  be 
examined  by  prying  eyes  in  this  manner  ?  '* 

The  overseer  took  it  for  examination. 

"  The  post-mark  is  Charleston  on  the  outer  sheet,  and  Alderbank, 
of  Massachusetts  on  the  inner.  It  is  from  Richard  Beame,  that 
rascally  fanatic  and  disturber  of  the  public  peace.  He  arraigns 
your  conscience,  and  entreats  you  to  leave  surroundings  which 
callous  every  righteous  aspiration,  and  brutalize  every  human  emo- 
tion. He  begs  you  to  go  back  to  your  trust  in  the  North.  The 
infernal  meddler.  Haman's  gallows  is  ready  for  him  here,  if  we 
could  trap  him  to  come  down. 

"  Ah  !  he  knows  better  than  to  visit  these  parts,"  chuckled  Mr. 
Stone  ;  "  but  how  is  it,  William  ?  Must  all  our  letters  go  through 
this  ordeal .''  and  what  will  be  the  result  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  can  explain  in  few  words.  The  South  will  not  have 
insurrectionary  papers  and  letters  sent  into  their  midst.  Don't  you 
remember  the  burning  of  the  mails  in  Charleston  a  few  years  since, 
and  what  a  hue  and  cry  was  made  in  Congress  about  it  ?  Jack- 
son's message  favored  a  repression  of  incendiary  matter  by  law. 
Calhoun  had  sagacity  enough  to  perceive  that  if  Congress  could 
decide  what  incendiary  publications  are,  they  may  next  decide  what 


284  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK  JUNE. 

incendiary  publications  are  not ;  and  thus  flood  the  mails  with  real, 
or  covert  abolitionism.  He  advocated  this  principle.  '  It  belongs 
to  the  States,  and  not  to  Congress,  to  determine  what  is^  or  what  is 
7iot  calculated  to  disturb  their  security.'  Webster  opposed  this,  as 
abridging  the  freedom  of  speech  and  of  the  press.  Clay  also 
opposed.  ]Mr.  Buchanan  supported  the  measure,  as  ''  dejnandcd  by 
the  necessities  of  the  country.^  The  debate  lasted  for  weeks,  Amos 
Kendall,  Postmaster-General,  neither  blamed  or  approved  of  an 
inspection  of  the  mails  ;  but  he  said,  *  we  owe  an  obligation  to  the 
laws  ;  but  a  higher  one  to  the  communities  in  which  we  live  ;  and 
if  the  former  be  permitted  to  destroy  the  latter^  it  is  patriotism  to 
disregard  them.'  He  said  the  postmaster's  ^justification  must  be 
looked  for  in  the  character  of  the  papers  detained,  and  the  circum- 
stances by  which  they  are  surrounded.' 

Now,  Edmund,  how  are  postmasters  to  know  the  character  of 
papers  without  opening  and  inspecting  them  ?  Your  name  at 
Charleston  is  a  new  one;  you  are  comparitively  a  stranger;  but 
being  employed  at  'Le  Grand  Palais,'  whose  master  is  a  fire  eater, 
they  send  you  this  letter  opened,  as  a  warning  for  the  future." 

"  What  will  be  necessary  to  allay  their  distrust  of  me  ? "  timidly 
inquired  the  clergyman. 

"  We  are  going  to  Charleston,  and  we  must  explain  to  the  post- 
master, I  shall  account  for  you,  and  you  must  write  a  blood  and 
thunder  letter  to  that  imp  of  hell  —  Beame.  Td  like  to  put  a  bul- 
let through  him  myself.  Ah  !  we'll  make  it  all  right,  old  boy.  If 
I  can  manage  that  irrepressible  wife  of  mine,  I  shall  be  all  right  all 
round.  Jupiter !  we've  managed  adroitly  to  conceal  from  her  your 
possession  of  a  black  wife.  If  she  knew  the  truth,  her  foot  would 
never  cross  your  threshold ;  and  I  should  be  in  hotter  water  by 
several  degrees  Fahrenheit  than  I  am  now." 

"  1  should  mourn  her  absence,  for  her  entrance  to  my  parsonage 
is  like  the  dawn  of  a  bird-caroling  morning,  or  the  flower-burst  of 
an  apple  orchard.  There  is  a  breezy  fragrance  about  her  ways,  and 
a  crisp  freshness  in  her  independent  thought  and  expression.  I 
watch  for  her,  till  I  hear  the  'fleet  step  and  joyous  bound  '  of  her 
pony,  till  — 

'  I  see  the  jaunty  hat,  the  plume 
Swerve  bird-like  in  the  joyous  gale ; 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  285 

The  cheeks  lit  up  to  burning  bloom  ; 

The  young  eyes  sparkling  through  the  veil.'  " 

"  Ha  !  ha  !  has  Rachel  found  a  rival  ?  Perhaps  it's  time  for  the 
green-eyed  monster  to  dash  out  in  my  defense." 

*'  By  no  means  ;  don't  trot  out  the  monster  yet ;  no  necessity. 
Rachel  is  the  angel  of  my  home.  Rachel's  presence  is  like  an  In- 
dian summer,  in  whose  idle  haze  my  moody  soul  is  lulled  to  happi- 
ness and  rest.  She  has  forgotten  Guy /and  the  warmth  of  her 
tropical  nature  is  lavished  upon  me.  My  life  is  wrapped  in  hers. 
I  shall  buy  and  own  her." 

Lucy's  quick  step  arrested  farther  conversation.  The  ring  of 
cups  and  table-ware,  and  the  stumping  of  mammy's  crutch  an- 
nounced the  tea  hour. 

"Look  here!  I've  read  Daniel  Webster's  whole  speech,  and 
find  that  he  says,"  (holding  up  the  paper  and  reading),  "  Slavery 
has  arrested  the  religious  feeling  of  the  country;  it  has  taken 
hold  on  the  consciences  of  men.  He  is  a  rash  man,  indeed,  and 
little  conversant  with  human  nature :  and  especially  has  he  a 
very  erroneous  estimate  of  the  character  of  the  people  of  this  coun- 
try, who  supposes  that  a  feeling  of  this  kind  is  to  be  trifled  with  or 
despised.  .  .  But  to  coerce  it  into  silence,  to  endeavor  to  re- 
strain its  free  expression,  to  seek  to  compress  and  confine  it,  warm 
as  it  is,  and  more  heated  as  such  endeavors  would  inevitably  render 
it  J  should  this  be  attempted,  I  know  nothing,  even  in  the  Coustitu- 
tion  or  the  Union  itself,  which  would  not  be  endangered  by  the 
explosion  which  might  follow." 

"  Pooh  !  the  superstitious  old  thunderer  1  Could  you  not  esti- 
mate for  yourself  the  quality  of  religious  interest  which  Cloudspire 
church  manifested  on  this  subject,  in  the  revival,  at  the  time  of  our 
marriage  ;  when  we  mobbed  Richard  Beame,  the  vile  agitator,  and 
drove  him  from  the  church  with  eggs  and  snowballs,  and  forced  him 
and  his  sister  Fanny  to  walk  miles  home  in  the  deep,  new-fallen 
snow  ?  That's  the  kind  of  religious  feeling  for  anti-slavery,  which 
the  churches  propagate.  As  for  breaking  this  Union,  the  South 
has  been  upon  the  verge  of  secession  so  many  times,  and  yet  co- 
heres, that  Webster's  prophesied  explosion  may  be  denominated  a 
pohtical  soap  bubble, —  nothing  more." 


286  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"Glad  to  hear  your  comments;  they  are  assuring,  William.  I 
do  not  relish  living  on  the  crust  of  a  Southern  volcano." 

Old  mammy  appeared  in  the  door,  on  her  crutches,  in  patched 
apron  and  turban. 

*'  My  good  marser,  de  tea  be  ready." 

The  ride  home  along  the  southern  skirts  of  fragrant  pine  forests, 
over  she  sandy  road,  checkered  by  moonlight  and  pictured 
shadows,  should  have  been  delighful  to  both  ;  but  a  lingering  offence 
lurked  in  William  Steele's  moody  silence  and  short  answers  to 
Lucy's  attempts  at  conversation.  She  resolved  to  manifest  no  irri- 
tation at  his  sullenness,  but  constantly  brought  before  his  mind  the 
exquisite  beauty  of  the  evening — turning  with  tact  to  the  virtues 
and  self-denial  of  their  friend  Stone  —  bestowing  upon  him  that 
mock  sympathy  and  admiration,  which  she  knew  to  be  gratifying  to 
her  husband,  and  of  which  he  had  no  reason  to  doubt  the  sin- 
cerity. 

He  was  not  placable.  His  tone  relaxed  none  of  its  gruffness  till 
their  arrival  at  home.  There,  both  hastened  to  the  couch  of  their 
sleeping  boy.  Both  eagerly  interrogated  the  doting  old  black  nurse 
who  sat  close  by  her  precious  charge,  of  his  welfare  during  their 
absence.  Was  he  well  ?  Had  he  wept  for  them  ?  Had  she  taken 
him  out  airing?  Had  he  fallen?  How  long  had  he  slept  ?  To  all, 
old  nurse  gave  fond  and  satisfactory  response.  They  lifted  the 
pavilion,  and  studied  the  budding  beauty  with  affection  and  pride. 
A  few  tender  tears  welled  up  from  the  fountain  of  a  young 
mother's  love. 

William  Steele  gently  lifted  his  precious  child  from  the  pillows, 
pressed  him  to  his  breast,  carried  him  to  the  sitting-room,  listened 
to  his  glad  and  innocent  prattle,  with  a  softened  heart,  and  a  fresh 
love  upspringing  for  its  lovely  mother  who  sat  by  his  side.  He  was 
mild,  but  abstracted.  Secret  memories  took  wing  and  fluttered 
through  the  guilty  chambers  of  his  soul. 

From  the  same  couch  whence  he  lifted  his  little  son  with  pater- 
nal pride,  he  had  raised  his  daughter  Lillian,  to  barter  with  the 
New  Orleans  trader.  He  saw  again  her  flaxen  hair,  the  innocent 
confusion  of  her  blue  eyes,  wakened  at  midnight.  He  heard  again 
her  pleading  voice,  "  Me  sleepy,  papa,"  blazing  along  his  memory 
like  electric  fire.     The  dropping  rain  of  that  dreary  night  haunted 


WHITE   MAY,   AND      BLACK  JUNE.  287 

his  ear.     Her  little  cry  as  she  clung  to  him  when  he  bore  her  into 
the  pitchy  darkness  and  mounted  his  horse. 

"  Dark,  papa  !  all  dark  !  me  f'aid.  papa,  me  f'aid  !  " 
He  heard  the  nimble  thud  of  his  horses  hoofs  on  the  turf  through 
the  forest.  He  saw  the  dim  shape  of  the  bellying  canvas  on  the 
huge  wagon  which  had  been  purposely  removed  from  the  campfires, 
where  the  chained  gangs  were  lying.  He  felt  the  roll  of  bills 
clutched  in  his  palm,  which  he  took  in  exchange  for  his  dead  Isa- 
bel's sleeping  daughter. 

He  remembered  the  heartless  traders  words, — 
"Plenty  of  pickaninnies  in  there  —  we  shall  start  in  an  hour!" 
Little  Lillian's  last  sobbing  cry,  as  it  issued  from  the  receding 
wagon,  "  Papa,  papa,  papa  !  "  pierced  his  callous  heart  with  pain. 

Little  Willie,  (he  was  named  for  his  father)  was  gayly  toddling 
about,  from  nurse  to  mother,  with  equal  affection  for  both.  The 
father  sought  the  open  air.  A  voice  seemed  calling  from  the 
magnolia  by  the  moon-lighted  river.  It  was  Isabel's.  He  turned 
to  the  stables;  like  the  dying  echo  of  a  distant  bell,  the  voice  pur- 
sued his  steps,  till  fascinated  by  the  weird  spell,  he  wended  his 
course  towards  the  river  bank.  The  voice  seemed  hushed  at  poor 
Isabel's  grave.  He  paused  by  the  green  mound,  beneath  the  shiv- 
ering trees.  A  quickened  inner  sight  pierced  the  earth  above  her 
breast  and  seemed  to  meet  again  the  suffering  face,  the  searching 
eyes  and  lips  that  moved  to  say, — 
"Where  is  my  child.'* 

*  Oh  !  where  is  my  child  ! 

My  beautiful  child ! 
That  I  left  to  its  father's  dear  care  ? 
Say  where  do  her  feet  — 

Her  poor  little  feet  — 
Go  pattering,  wandering  —  where  ? 

Does  she  live  in  the  love, 

The  bright,  warm  love. 
Of  the  roof  where  her  life  first  began? 
Does  she  sing  with  the  lark  — 

The  caroling  lark, 
Where  the  sands  of  my  life  swiftly  ran  ? 

Do  you  kiss  her  at  nignt  — 
The  dark,  gloomy  night ! 


288  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE. 

When  her  blue  eyes  look  up  to  your  own 
Does  she  lie  in  your  arms  — 

Your  brooding,  strong  arms, 
When  she  utters  the  low,  fever  moan  ? 

Does  she  know  Isabel  ? 

The  dead  Isabel ! 
In  her  grave  in  the  magnolia  grove  ? 
Does  she  call  me  mamma ! 

Her  loving  mamma. 
When  her  runaway  feet  hither  rove  ?  * 

The  subject  of  his  remorseful  and  disordered  thoughts  assumed 
the  familiar  form  of  the  improvised  songs  of  the  slaves  ;  neverthe- 
less, his  lashings  of  conscience  were  no  less  potent.  Borne  "  Ma- 
zeppa "  like  on  the  unrelenting  past,  whirling  through  sturdy 
memories  cold  and  stark  ; 

"The  skies  spun  like  a  mighty  wheel  ! 
He  saw  the  trees  like  drunkards  reel ! 
His  heart  grew  sick  —  his  brain  grew  sore  ; 
Then  thtobbed  awhile,  and  beat  no  more  !  " 

The  strong  man  fell  prone  upon  the  grave  of  his  first  and  deepest 
love.  Arrows  of  remorse  had  cleft  the  brazen  armor  of  defiance  in 
which  he  took  up  the  gauntlet  of  life,  after  he  had  hidden  the 
stricken  Isabel  and  her  darling  Lillian  from  his  sight. 

At  length,  fanned  by  the  cool  evening  breeze,  and  restored  by 
the  oblivious  draught  of  insensibility,  he  gathered  himself  upon  his 
feet,  and  strove  to  become  master  of  himself.  The  haunting  of 
sweet  voices  had  gone.  Mysterious  Night  studded  with  stars,  and 
flooded  by  the  "  unclouded  grandeur  "  of  the  moon,  enwrapped 
the  gurgling  river,  the  quiet  fields,  the  whispering  magnolias, 
William  Steele  and  Isabel's  grave.     He  said, — 

*'  Night  is  the  time  for  dreams  ; 

When  truth  that  is,  and  truth  that  seems, 
Mix  in  fantastic  strife  !  " 

He  cast  one  tender  glance  behind,  and  strode  away  cursing  in 
superstitious  self  abasement. 

"Am  I  a  woman,  to  faint  at  ghostly  sights  and  sounds?     Fool ! 


WHITE  MAY,  AND  BLACK  JUNE.  289 

coward  !  that  I  am  !  "  and  his  clenched  hands  beat  the  hoUow  air 
Ihe  past  IS  among  the  things  that  were.     The  present  is  the  rock 
on  which   we  stand.     My  boy,  the   legal  fruit  of   marriao-edaTms 
the  holiest  trials  of  my  streno-th  "  °  '    '-'^""^ 

no^chalancf   '"'°  '"'  '^'""""''  °^  ^''  ^'"''-^  """  ^  ^"''^'^  ^^'  °f 
■      "VVh3'  I  expected  to  find  you  all  asleep.     Why  watch  for  me 
Lucy.'     You  have  had  a  fatiguing  day."  lor  me, 

1'  S'^'^r''*  ^'  ''^^' '  ^"'^  w'^^t  has  happened,  William '  " 

couple    of   the   neighboring   negroes ;  stopped  to   learn   the  news 
The  night  is  pleasant,  you  linow." 

p.^^'^'^b'?  ."'«„«"S"'"S  "inter,  a  gay  company  gathered  at  "Le 
Grand  Palais  ;"  among  them,  several  young  Soutliern  ladies  In 
the  fine  mornings  and  evenings,  a  troop  of  p°onies  and  horses  were 
led  to  the  stepp.ng-block,  and  a  laughing  bevy  cantered  away  with 
no  other  cavaliers  than  two  or  three  black  servants.  Lucy's  health 
enfeebled  during  the  summer,  demanded  by  the  physician's  ad- 
vice the  same  bracing  wild  riding.  She  took  care, ^lo^ver  to 
choose  an  opposite  direction,  and  a  later,  or  earlier  hour  ' 

.UaT  '?'°™'"S' however,  as  she  made  a  sudden  turn  in'to  a  brio-ht 
glade,  she  had  the  deep  chagrin  of  riding  briskly  into  their  midst 
moLnT/:'''    ',  T'"  ='™°"°  "'^   high-spirited  animals,  and  for  a 
moimted  cir'cjs  "'"^  ''""'^  """""''"^  "'^   brilliant'../...  of  a 

"Pardon,  ladies,"  said  Lucy,  bowing  low  as  she  rode  out  of  the 
arena   into  her   own  solitary   bridle   p°ath,   congratulatiing   herself 
upon  the   happy  escape   from  Caste,  when  a  sw'ift  clatter°of   heels 
came  after,  gradually  halting  in  speed  as  they  came  up  abreast 
Bon  jour,  madame."  spoke  a  cheery  voice 

"J3o,t  jour,  mademoiselle.     II  fait  ieau  temps,"    -Lucv   rtuWed     as 
she^turned  to  looked   upon    a  pair  of  vermeil'cheeks!  and  glinting 

"  You  have  a   lonely  ride,  Mrs.  Steele.     Shall  I  have  the  pleas- 
ure of  accompanving  you  .>  "  uie  pieas 

yourself.""   *""  '"""''  '"''"'''"^   ^°'  companionship,  if   agreeable  to 
"Entirely   so,"   replied   Leonore  ;    for   it  was  none  other   than 


290  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Leonore  Wallace,  the  bosom  friend  of  Grace  Mov/ndes  "  There 
is  a  picturesque  little  church  in  that  direction,  and  a  majestic  or- 
chard of  oaks  ;  shall  I  be  your  guide  ?  " 

The  ponies  walked  while  the  ladies  chatted.  Leonore  ordered 
Sunday,  the  little  groom,  to  follow  at  a  distance,  so  they  might 
have  the  path  all  to  themselves.  Leonore,  threading  the  turf 
among  the  trees,  gave  Lucy  the  trodden  way.  Soon  coming  into 
the  open  road,  they  struck  into  a  canter. 

"Do  you  hear,  Mrs.  Steele.'*  The  baying  of  hounds  is  music  to 
a  Southern  ear." 

Before  she  could  reply,  a  tall,  lithe,  b'rown  figure  dashed  from 
the  coppice  in  front,  and  seized  both  ponies  by  the  bit ;  backing 
them  suddenly. 

"De  hunters,  missis  !     De  gun,  missis,  de  gun  !  " 

A  deer  bounded  from  the  copse  across  the  road  to  the  field. 
Rifle  shots  followed  across  the  way  ;  the  deep-mouthed  hounds 
were  in  full  pursuit,  followed  by  rushing  horsemen,  plying  whip 
and  spur.  When  the  din  of  "  sylvan  war  "  was  over.  Lucy  found 
herself  standing  upon  the  sward,  her  saddle  girth  broken,  and  her 
pony's  head  pulling  wildly  at  the  hand  that  held  him  like  the  grasp 
of  a  vise. 

"  So  we  owe  our  lives  to  you,  my  brave  fellow,"  said  Leonore. 
"  What  is  your  name  ?  " 

"  I  is  Guy,  missis  ;  too  glad  to  sabe  you  missis.  I  b'longs  to 
Marse  Fairland." 

"  Guy,  can  you  mend  Mrs.  Steele's  saddle  girth  ?  Let  go  '  Ma- 
homet/ I  can  manage  him." 

"  Ole  hunter,  missis  ;  might  follow  de  houn'." 

"Let  go,  Guy." 

He  obeyed. 

*  Mahomet '  bent  his  fiery  head  to  the  ground,  shook  his  flying 
mane  in  the  air,  and  reared. 

"  Go  on  then,  and  take  a  turn  about, "  laughed  Leonore.  He 
struck  into  a  flying  gallop  towards  the  field,  whence  vanished  the 
horsemen  ;  made  a  grand  leap  over  the  fences,  clearing  every  ob- 
struction, and  neighing  wildly  half  way  across.  Then  he  turned 
with  a  long  sweep  back  towards  the  road.     Guy  gave  Lucy's  rein 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  29! 

into  her   hand,  and  tore   down   the  upper   part  of    the  fence  like  a 
giant. 

On  the  bold  rider  came ;  her  spirited  eye  and  courageous  hand 
guiding  the  hunter  to  Guy,  chafing  with  disappointment,  yet  tamed 
to  her  wish. 

"  Now  his  frolic  is  over,  'Mahomet'  will  stand." 

"  Fine  rider,  missis !  Set  proud  and  beautiful,  missis,"  his 
splendid  teeth  showing  white  as  a  hound's.  He  led  him  over  to 
the  bush,  saying,  "  De  green  leaf  cool   his  foaming   mouth,  missis." 

"You  compliment  me  too  highly,  Guy.  The  riding  is  all  in 
habit." 

Sunday  arrived  at  the  time.  Lucy's  face  was  all  aglow  with 
delight. 

"  My  dear  young  lady  !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  it  is  worth  my  whole 
stay  in  the  South,  to  witness  your  horsemanship.  It  is  better  than 
medicine  for  me." 

"  That  kind  of  exercise  stirs  the  blood  of  our  lauguid  Southern 
lives.  There's  health  and  exhileration  in  a  mettlesome  steed. 
The  other  ladies  refuse  to  ride  '  Mahomet.'  However,  he  is  my 
choice.  We  have  had  many  a  race  ; "  pleasantly  responded  the 
flushed  rider. 

"I  am  reminded  of  Queen  Dido's  steed  in  Virgil.  Ac  fracna  fe- 
rox  spiunaiiti  mandit.^'' 

"  Now,  Mrs.  Steele,  I  confess  myself  worsted,  and  am  obliged  to 
ask  for  the  translation.  I  have  never  lifted  the  veil  from  the  beau- 
ties of  the  dead  languages." 

"  I  am  indebted  to  the  severe  drill  of  my  father.  Mahomet 
*  fierce  champs  the  foaming  bits;'  like  the  steed  of  the  Cartha- 
ginian Queen." 

"That  is  very  fine.  Those  old  Romans  lived  in  the  saddle; 
they  have  sent  down  to  us  some  choice  word  painting." 

Sunday  drew  up  at  that  moment  with  a  curious  *' What  de  mat- 
ter, missis  ? "  and  Lucy  took  the  opportunity  of  attending  to  the 
repairing  of  her  saddle  girth.  Leonore's  restive  horse  cropped  the 
leaves,  walking  away  j  thus  making  the  distance  yet  more  favor- 
able to  Lucy  for  her  design  of  fulfilling  her  promise  to  Rachel,  to 
^^'??iember  Guy^  Suddenly  he  had  been  thrown  in  her  way, —  and 
she  seemed  to  have  ridden  on  Rachel's  errand  this  morning.     Guy 


292  WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK  JUNE. 

addressed  her  in  a  low  tone,  with  his  eyes  riveted  upon  his  busy 
fingers. 

"  Miss  Steele,  Rachel  neber  come  back  ?  " 

"  No,  Guy,  never  return ;  must  be  safe  now  in  the  North." 

*'/goin  now,  missis.  De  good  Lord  bring  you  here  dis  day. 
Where  am  Rachel  gone?     Dun  fergot. " 

"  Lucy  stooped  to  try  the  girth,  and  pronounced  distinctly, — 

''Philadelphia:' 

"  I  goin  nex  week,"  his  eyes  still  on  his  work.  "Fin'  Rachel. 
Marse  Fairlan' take  bloodhoun  ten  mile 'way  to  de  club-house; 
hab  gran'  hunt  whole  week.     I  go  den." 

Lucy  walked  around  her  pony,  and  delayed  for  Guy  to  come 
round  and  adjust  the  belt,  and  hand  her  upon  the  saddle.  She 
bent  to  arransre  her  habit,  and  thrust  into  Guv's  hand  five  dollars, 

"  De  Lord  bress  young  missis,"  was  all  she  heard,  as  she  sprung 
into  her  seat. 

It  was  late.  The  visit  to  the  old  church  was  given  up.  Drring 
the  ride  home,  Leonore  led  in  a  carnival  of  gayety  —  laughing, 
satire  and  singing,  that  sent  the  happy  blood  bounding  through 
Lucy's  weakened  system.  The  exhilaration  mounted  to  her 
cheeks,  and  brightened  her  lustrous  eyes. 

"  Oh  !  madam  is  beautiful !  "  said  Leonore.  "  A  few  hair-breadth 
escapes  like  ours  to-day,  would  be  an  excellent  tonic  !  "  concealing 
beneath  the  careless  words  a  heart  full  of  sympathy.  "  But  I  shall 
soon  return  to  Charleston." 

Nearing  home,  she  invited  Lucy  to  come  to  Charleston,  if  her 
health  grew  more  feeble,  or  in  case  any  other  event  might  render  it 
necessary  for  her  to  go  to  the  city;  gave  her  the  street  and  num- 
ber, demanding  a  promise  in  the  affirmative. 

*'  If  any  unforeseen  misfortune  should  fall,  and  you  need  a  friend, 
come  to  me  !"  she  said  cheerily.  "I  am  not  a  stereotyped  South- 
erner. Make  my  acquaintance,  my  dear  friend,  as  an  exception  to 
the  species.  When  memory  has  no  other  bright  image,  remember 
Leonore." 

Her  parting  hand  sent  a  grateful  and  lasting  warmth  to  Lucy's 
isolation.  The  balm  of  that  morning's  unexpected  and  unsought 
friendship  lingered  about  the  steps  and  occupations  of  Mrs.  Steele 
for  weeks.      The  airy   laugh,  the   burst  of  song,  the  sisterly  voice 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  293 

broke  upon  the  silent  air,  and  caused  her  pulses  to  throb  with  an 
ecstasy  quite  alien  to  that  of  former  days.  The  reflection  that  the 
tender  mind  of  her  darling  boy  must  inevitably  be  molded  by  the 
very  influences  which  her  soul  detested,  that  he  must  gradually 
become  cruel  and  indifferent  to  the  woes  of  others,  by  constant 
contact  with  slavery,  that  every  divine  and  lovely  attribute  of  his 
childish  nature  would  grow  to  a  tyrannical  and  thorny  selfishness, 
were  daily  her  most  painful  thought.  Yet  there  seemed  to  be  no 
remedy ;  a  thick  set  wall  seemed  to  hedge  in  her  dearest  wishes. 

A  few  weeks  after  Leonore's  departure,  when  the  fires  began  to 
brighten  on  hearths  in  country  and  town,  a  new  revelation  dawned 
upon  Lucy.  Her  husband  often  returned  at  evening  with  flushed 
face  and  angry  eyes.  Excited  and  irritable,  he  forgot  the  respect 
due  to  his  wife ;  accosted  her  and  replied  to  her  mild  words,  as  if 
she  had  no  stronger  claims  upon  his  tenderness  than  the  slaves  he 
herded  in  his  fields.  His  little  son,  the  idol  of  his  pride  and  expec- 
tations, often  felt  his  father's  harshness  and  fled  sobbing  to  his 
mother.  It  was  evident  to  her  that  the  common  habit  of  a  morning 
glass  of  wine  or  brandy  had  grown  to  a  giant,  greater  than  he.  If, 
in  his  cool  moments,  she  remonstrated  with  him,  proposing  to  re- 
move the  dangerous  stimulants  from  the  sight  and  taste  of  litte 
Willie,  he  rudely  answered, — 

'•'  Let  him  alone.  Everybody  takes  wine  and  brandy,  at  least 
every  Southerner.  You  would  not  be  so  squeamish,  if  you  should 
once  look  into  the  vaults  of  Mr.  Fairland.  There's  a  hogshead  of 
wine  there  for  each  of  his  children  ;  put  in  there  at  their  birth,  to 
remain  till  they  are  married.  Then  there's  every  kind  of  liquor  a 
gentleman  need  to  have  ;  old  wines  of  every  variety,  the  smoothest 
gins,  rums  and  brandies  for  common  use.  Surely  you  must  be 
ignorant  indeed,  when  you  don't  know  that  at  every  high  dinner 
old  cocks  give,  and  young  cocks  too,  for  that  matter,  half  these 
grandees  have  to  be  put  to  bed  by  the  servants. 

My  boy  will  drink  toasts  with  the  aristocracy.  He'll  drive 
blooded  horses  with  his  pack  of  hounds.  I'm  in  a  fair  way  to  set 
him  up.  Willie  Steele  will  be  a  politician,  and  politicians  know 
bow  to  drink.  My  Willie  may  go  to  Congress.  And  who  ever  saw 
a  Southern  Congressman  who  does  not  know  by  practice,  the  exact 
quality   of  brandies  and  wines.     You   are  a  woman,  Lucy.      What 


294  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

woman  understands  the  requirements  of  a  public  man  ?  It  is  for 
me  to  dictate,  and  for  you  to  acquiesce." 

Thus  the  dull,  dreary  days  ripened  and  fell  like  the  bitter  fruit  of 
a  blasted  tree.  Letters  from  home  were  frequent  and  affectionate, 
but  they  afforded  her  only  superficial  comfort.  She  had  never 
unburdened  to  her  parents  her  sufferings  and  regrets. 

At  the  close  of  one  of  those  rainy  days  when  the  clouds  seem  to 
drift  bodily  to  the  earth,  drenching  woodland  and  plain  with  shining 
sheets,  Lucy  ordered  the  spacious  fireplace  to  be  heaped  with  logs 
and  light-wood,  that  her  husband  should  meet  its  cheery  blaze  and 
pleasant  warmth.  Night  shut  down.  The  driving  drops  splashed  on 
the  panes  with  unabated  force.  The  supper  waited.  The  old 
black  nurse  crooned  over  her  sleeping  Willie,  The  cook  in  the 
kitchen  basted  the  roasted  fowl,  turned  the  long-done  sweet  pota- 
toes, anxiously  lifted  the  lid  of  the  rice  kettle,  and  soliloquized, — 

"  VVud  be  spile  1 " 

Lucy  watched  the  fire  thoughtfully,  and  when  the  illuminated 
room  grew  dim,  had  the  fire  replenished.  Still  Mr.  Steele  remained 
absent. 

The  mantel  clock  struck  eleven.  Alarm  took  possession  of  the 
household.     Cook  came  courtseying  to  the  door. 

"My  dear  missis!  where  be  de  marser.'*  ebryting  spile." 

Nurse  laid  Willie  to  rest,  and  suggested  sending  the  boy  to  the 
quarters  to  ask  old  Fry.  He  went  and  returned  with  Fry,  who, 
bowing  low,  knew  nothing. 

"See  Marse  Steele  in  de  fiel' wid  de  mule-hands  ploughing;  de 
rest  clean  trench,  in  de  rice  fieP." 

"Take  the  lantern  and  go  to  the  stables,"  said  Lucy.  "See  if 
his  horse  is  there,  Fr}\" 

Old  Fry  obeyed.  He  soon  stepped  hurriedly  back  upon  the 
piazza,  and  dripping  with  pouring  rain,  answered, — 

"De  hos  be  dere,  missis,  wid  de  saddle  on,  stan'  wid  he  nose  on 
de  lock ;  he  wet  as  de  groun'." 

A  premonitory  fear  of  some  impending  horror  paled  her  face 
and  deprived  her  of  speech.  Old  nurse,  ever  watchful,  spoke  for 
her. 

"Go  Fry!  touse  up  de  men  in  de  quarters.  Take  dis  lantern, 
an'  git  de  coachman  lantern  ter  dQ  big  house,  an'  go  straight  to  de 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  295 

rice-fiel'.  Look  sharp  on  de  way.  Mebby  de  bos  stumble  and  trow 
Marse  Steele,  an'  he  break  he  leg.  Tak'  de  pine  torch  for  de  man's. 
Look  all  roun' !     Boy  Bob,  you  'tay  here,  by  missis." 

Turning  to  Lucy,  she  continued, — 

"  Beg  missis  to  set  dow'  in  easy  chair  ;  keep  up  de  good  heart. 
Ole  Fry  fin'  marser  soon.  Bob,  youse  go  in  kitchen,  tell  cook  stir 
up  de  fire.     Marse  want  suthin  warm." 

The  clock  struck  twelve.  Lucy  opened  the  door,  and  anxiously 
searched  the  darkness.  The  flaring  torches  and  lanterns  were 
coming  slowly  up  the  bank.  She  closed  the  door  and  dropped  into 
her  chair,  stricken  with  dread.  She  heard  a  busde  in  the  yard, 
and  then  heavy  steps  on  the  piazza,  as  if  they  bore  a  weight. 

Nurse  motioned  Lucy  to  remain,  and  stepped  out,  closing  the 
door  after  her.  The  heavy  breathing  of  the  men  reached  Lucy's 
ear,  and  the  sound  of  shuffling  feet,  depositing  something  heavily 
on  the  floor.     She  hurried  out. 

*'  Have  you  found  my  husband  ?  " 

"Beg  de'  missis  to  go  in.     Ole  Fry  come  in,  tell  all.' 

"  No,  Fry,  tell  now  ?     Did  you  find  Mr.  Steele  ?     Where  is  he  ? " 

"  He  be  here,  dear  missis  —  too  muddy  !  Fin,  him  in  de  trench. 
Him  can't  speak,  missis !  mebby  he  faint  way." 

"  She  pushed  the  men  aside,  peered  at  the  floor,  and  called, — 

"  William  !  William  !  speak  to  me  !  come  in  to  the  fire  !  "  know- 
ing not  what  she  said.     '•  Bring  the  lantern.  Fry." 

Nurse  came  after  her,  threw  her  arms  round  her  mistress,  and 
strove  to  draw  her  in  doors.  Old  Fry  had  whispered  the  dreadful 
tiuth  in  the  old  nurse's  ear. 

"  Come,  dear  missis  ;  wait  a  leetle  ;  com  'way  ;  mus'  not  look  now. 
Let  ole  Fry  an'  me  ten'  to  marser.     Come  'way." 

Lucy  tore  open  the  old  arms,  caught  the  other  lantern,  and 
rushed  to  the  spot  where  her  husband  lay.  The  glare  of  the  light 
fell  upon  a  stony  face,  besmeared  with  blood,  and  the  mud  of  the 
trench.  Narrow  rivulets  of  blood  and  muddy  water  dripped  from 
his  clothes,  and  ran  across  the  floor.  She  caught  up  his  hand,  cold 
and  stiff,  calling  wildly  again, — 

"  William  1  William  !     Dead  !     Oh  !  my  Savior  !     Dead  !  " 

The  lantern  fell  from  her  grasp.  The  tender  hands  of  old  Fry 
and  the  old  nurse,  supported  Lucy,  moaning,  sobbing  and  trembling 


296  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

to  the  room,  and  laid  her  upon  the  settee.  Old  nurse  directed  Fry 
to  go  to  "Grand  Palais"  for  Dorcas. 

"I  stay  here  wid  poor,  dear  marser.     Dorcas  do  all." 

Lucy  did  not  faint,  but  lay  passively  moaning  and  sobbing,  her 
physical  strength  stricken  away,  her  mental  action  intensified. 
She  could  see  nothing  but  the  stark,  stony  face  of  her  husband.  A 
continued  chill  seemed  to  creep  from  his  cold  and  rigid  fingers 
through  her  own,  and  settle  with  icy  coldness  upon  the  subtle 
springs  of  life.  Old  nurse  held  the  trembkng  hands,  stroked  them 
with  a  soft,  magnetic  touch,  and  smoothed  her  throbbing  head. 

Dorcas  came  lightly  in,  knelt  by  the  lounge,  slid  one  arm  under 
Lucy,  and  held  her  to  her  breast;  murmuring  dear  and  healing 
words.  She  then  stole  out  on  her  terrible  errand  of  robing  the 
dead  for  his  eternal  sleep.  The  women  at  the  quarters  saw  the 
moving  lights  at  the  overseer's  house,  stole  from  their  pallets,  and 
crowded  the  piazza  around  the  dead  man.  Dorcas  and  Fry 
hushed  their  astonishment  and  superstitious  horrors  to  whispers. 

They  carried  Mr.  Steele  to  a  vacant  room  in  the  kitchen  build- 
ing ;  the  women  brought  water  and  washed  from  the  piazza  every 
trace  that  would  "  pain  de  dear  missis  eyes."  Old  Fry  chose  three 
of  the  best  men,  and  directed  the  others  to  go  to  their  cabins. 
Two  women  offered  to  stay"  wid  de  cook."  Dorcas  was  in  the 
kitchen  with  them,  when  Fry  called  her.  The  dead  man's  coat 
and  vest  lay  upon  the  floor,  clotted  with  blood.  Old  Fry  lifted  the 
blanket  that  covered  William  Steele,  and  pointed  to  a  gaping 
wound  on  his  left  side,  over  the  heart. 

"  My  Jesus  !  "  groaned  Dorcas.  "'  Marse  Steele  was  murdered. 
Who  has  dared  to  do  this  ?  to  take  this  life .?  " 

"Dunno,"  solemnly  answered  Fry.  "  Dese  hands  do  no  mur- 
der," showing  both  palms.  "  Ise  wait  de  Lord  time,  howsomeber 
I's  sufferin." 

Cook  crept  in  and  looked  with  frightened  gaze  over  Dorcas* 
shoulder,  then  shrunk  back  groaning,  with  her  coarse  apron  to  her 
face. 

"Pete,  do  you  know  anything  about  it?"  questioned  Dorcas. 

"  Dunno,  Dorcas,  more'n  Fry.  Marse  Steele  has  bin  drefful  wid 
we  people  las'  fall  an'  dis  winter.     Cut  up  we  back  wicked." 

"  Dat  so,  Pete,"  said  another  of  the  three  in  a  rich,  powerful, 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK  JUNE.  297 

subdued  voice.  "  Bribe,  whip,  cuss  ebry  day,  till  wese  wear  out. 
I  know  tree  of  de  people  lay  stiff  in  de  groun'  now,  wid  de  bloody 
flogin.  But  I  dunno  who  stab  dat  big  gash  in  he  heart.  My  hand 
clean  like  Fry." 

"  Marse  Fairland  gone  way,"  said  Dorcas;  "so  the  best  to  be 
done  is  to  bind  cotton  on  the  wound,  that  young  missis  shall  not 
know  to-night.  Pete,  you  do  hide  dem  clottered  clothes,  till  Marse 
Fairland  see." 

In  the  kitchen,  Dorcas  confided  to  the  cook,  that  "it  was  spoken 
by  missis  and  de  young  ladies,  dat  de  oberseer  was  too  cruel,  and 
de  negroes  might  revenge." 

"Well,"  replied  cook,  placidly,  "we  flesh  an'  blood  too.  Can't 
b'ar  ebryting.  Poor  Miss  Lucy,  all  'lone  now.  She  one.  De 
Lord  bless  her.     IMarse  Fairland  do  nottin  for  nobody,  but  hisself." 

"  I  shall  vise  Miss  Lucy  to  go  to  Charleston,"  whispered  Dorcas. 
"  Miss  Leonore,  so  gay  and  so  beautiful,  told  me  to  persuade 
her  to  go  to  her  house,  if  anything  happen."  Drawing  nearer  to 
cook's  ear,  "  I  believe  Miss  Leonore  know  de  oberseer  in  danger." 

"I  glad  de  young  lady  lub  Miss  Lucy,"  said  cook.  "Marse 
Fairlan'  young  ladies  neber  turn  head  towards  her." 

Dorcas  had  everything  prepared  for  the  body  in  Lucy's  small 
parlor,  and  soon  the  heavy,  shuffling  steps  of  the  four  black  men 
moved  slowly  past  the  door  of  Lucy's  room,  with  the  lifeless  bur- 
den. Lucy  noticed  the  sound,  and  clung  closer  to  nurse,  sobbing 
and  moaning  more  helpless  than  before.  Dorcas  came  in  soon 
after,  knelt  again  by  the  lounge,  soothed  the  aching  head  of  Lucy, 
informed  her  that  her  work  was  finished,  and  insisted  that  she  and 
the  nurse  must  take  rest  and  sleep  if  possible.  She  herself  would 
stay  till  late  in  the  morning. 

Lucy  rose  quickly,  and  proceeded  to  the  room  where  her  erring, 
but  still  beloved  husband  slept  in  death.  Dorcas  slid  her  strong 
arm  about  her  waist,  and  walked  by  her  side.  The  wife  was  struck 
by  the  fierce  bitterness,  frozen  into  his  last  expression.  The  white 
face  lacked  the  calm,  restful  peace  which  often  settles  upon  the 
beloved,  and  robs  death  of  half  its  agony.  Lucy  laid  warm  kisses 
upon  the  cold,  passive  forehead,  and  upon  the  white,  unanswering 
lips.  The  thought  of  this  sudden  and  insidious  approach  of  her 
adversity  caused  her  to  exclaim, — 


298  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE. 

"  Can  it  be  possible  that  I  shall  never  hear  his  voice  again  ? 
Is  it  true  that  William  is  dead?  Dorcas!  Dorcas!  what  could 
have  been  the  cause?  He  was  perfectly  well  this  morning.  He 
rode  to  the  door  and  took  little  Willie  in  front  of  him,  and  gave 
him  a  short  canter.  He  was  in  good  spirits."  Breaking  down 
with  moans  and  tears,  she  exclaimed,  "  What  can  have  done  this  ?  " 

Dorcas  adroitly  veiled  the  truth,  by  showing  how  the  horse 
might  have  become  frightened,  and  thrown  his  master  stunned 
into  the  muddy  water  of  the  trench,  where  he  might  have  been 
drowned. 

Old  nurse,  who  had  followed  them  into  the  room,  raised  her 
voice  in  comfort. 

"  Dear  missis,  mus*  trus'  de  Lord.  Him  hab  done  all.  Wese 
nottin  but  de  rice  stalk.  Him  cut  we  down  when  he  be  ready. 
Trus'  de  blessed  Jesus,  my  dear  missis.  Lay  you  griebin  heart  in 
his  han'." 

"Come  out  to  de  fire,"  urged  Dorcas,  gently  drawing  her  away. 

"And  leave  him  here  in  the  cold  alone? "  sobbed  Lucy. 

"  Yes,  missis  must  do  ihat.  You  will  get  sick.  Marse  Steele 
will  never  be  cold  no  more.  De  lamps  will  burn  bright  in  this 
room  till  day,  and  I  shall  be  often  in  and  out." 

So  the  dear  girl  yielded  to  tlie  loving  care  of  her  black  friends, 
and  laid  her  head  upon  her  wretched  pillow. 

Rev.  Edmund  Stone  officiated  at  the  burial  ceremony.  Lucy, 
leaning  on  the  arm  of  Dorcas,  and  followed  by  the  overseers  at 
"  Success,"  "  Staple  "  and  "  Snowfield,"  with  a  few  of  the  men  at 
the  quarters,  went  down  to  the  magnolia  grove  by  the  river,  and 
laid  William  Steele  in  the  bosom  of  the  land  he  had  chosen  for  his 
own. 

Lucy  now  felt  that  the  bond  of  her  stay  in  the  South  was  bro- 
ken. She  longed  for  hoipe,  and  the  social  freedom  of  New  Eng- 
land. The  desire  of  removing  her  son  from  the  baleful  influence 
of  a  slave  district,  urged  her  departure,  -^he  financial  settlement 
of  her  husband's  affairs  demanded  the  advice  and  labor  of  an 
attorney.  Thus  she  was  compelled  to  visit  Charleston,  a  city  of 
stangers  and  high  caste.  The  remerabrance  of  Leonore's  strange 
request  occurred  to  her  mind, —  "I  am  not  a  stereotyepd  South- 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  299 

erner,  make  my  acquaintance,"  was  a  frank  invitation,— yet  she 
hesitated  to  comply. 

Dorcas  came  to  the  rescue. 

"Go  to  Miss  Leonore,"  slie  urged  ;  "she  good  ;  she  want  you  or 
she  never  mvite.  Now  Miss  Steele,  she  told  me  to  'member  and 
tell  you  to  visit  her  whensoever  vou  go  to  the  city.  Write  note, 
missis ;  get  anoder  to-morrow.  Write  now.  Bob  carry  it  to  de 
office  right  'way." 

The  note  was  written.  The  next  day  post  brought  a  warm  invi- 
tation. Was  received  for  a  week ;  also  information  that  Leonore's 
iincle,  a  lawyer,  would  undertake  any  business  she  might  desire  to 
place  in  his  hands.  Mr.  Fairland  allowed  her  to  be  driven  to 
Charleston  in  a  chaise.  She  arrived  after  dark.  At  sight  of  the 
brilliantly  lighted  mansion,  courage  nearly  deserted  her.°  A  trem- 
ulous pull  at  the  street  bell  brought  the  quick  step  of  a  servant 
down  the  marble  walk.  He  seemed  to  have  received  instructions, 
begged  to  know  if  her  name  was  Mistress  Steele,  and  ushered  her 
up  the  high-lighted  staircase  to  Leonore's  private  room,  where  the 
brave  girl  awaited  her  arrival. 

The  Wallaces  dwelt  in  the  luxury  of  "  Le  Grand  Palais." 
Amid  the  carpets,  curtains,  pictures  and  upholstery  of  her  friend's 
elegant  boudoir,  Lucy  feft  herself  an  intruder.  It  was  the  tea 
hour.  Lucy's  dread  of  meeting  the  aristocratic  glances  at  the 
family  table,  was  relieved  by  Leonore's  ring,  and  the  appearance  of 
her  short,  dwarfish  m.aid. 

" '  Toad,'  bring  tea  to  my  room  for  two  ;  my  friend  is  weary  with 
a  long  ride.  Toad,  bring  the  tea  hot,  and  plenty  of  goodies  ! 
remember,  I  am  voracious  to-night." 

The  blackj  stumpy  figure  courtesied,  while  her  face  warmed  into 
an  affectionate  smile. 

"  Do  all  for  missis." 

"And  for  my  friend,  Toad,"  said  Leonore. 

A  cheerful  "Yes,  missis"  was  the  reply. 

Toad  repeated  her  mistress'  order  in  the  hall,  and  returned  to 
draw  two  Chinese  tables  from  their  nest.  These  tables  of  shining 
black,  were  embellished  with  gilded  pagodas,  fanciful  bridges, 
boats  and  fantastic  trees  of  weeping  foliage.  Toad  farther  adorned 
with  purest  china  and  silver. 


300  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE. 

The  tea  was  delightful,  seasoned  with  the  hearty  welcome  and 
consideration  of  the  lovely  hostess.  Toad  stood  near  and  waited 
with  evident  affection  for  her  young  lady,  and  seemed  to  be  in  no 
wise  excluded  from  her  plans  or  discussions. 

"  Now,  Mrs.  Steele,"  said  Leonore  after  tea,  "  I  beg  you  to  rest 
and  feel  as  much  secluded  from  intrusion  as  you  desire.  These 
apartments  are  ours.  I  have  given  orders  to  receive  this  week  in 
the  parlors." 

"Your  friendship  and  attention  are  grateful  to  me  beyond  ex- 
pression 1  "  replied  Lucy,  "  more  especially  since  my  bereavement. 
I  desire  not  to  trespass  upon  your  time,  or  the  tastes  of  your 
family." 

"Oh,  my  time  is  nothing,  the  house  is  full  of  servants,  and  my 
dear,  you  are  not  the  guest  of  my  family,  but  my  own,  and  I  have 
a  darling  old  uncle  who  will  meet  you  as  his  own  daughter.  I 
have  apprised  him  of  your  coming." 

Wisely  avoiding  the  subject  of  her  husband's  death,  Leonore 
inquired  if  Mrs.  Steele  intended  to  go  North. 

"I  do  intend  to  leave  in  the  course  of  the  winter,  if  my  affairs 
can  be  adjusted  in  time.  Mr.  Steele  held  slaves,  r^Iiss  Wallace. 
It  is  my  design  to  take  them  as  my  portion  of  his  property.  I 
trust  what  I  am  about  to  say  will  give  you  no  offence.  I  intend 
to  free  therrf,  and  take  them  North  with  me;  or  if  it  is  better,  to 
take  them  North  and  free  them  there." 

"  No  offence  whatever,  my  dear  friend.  I  sincerely  believe 
freedom  to  be  the  birthright  of  every  human  being.  Our  slaves 
are  styled  chattels,  but  that  does  in  no  wise  change  the  case. 
They  belong  to  the  universal  human  family,  and  freedom  is  their 
inheritance,  robbed  of  it  as  they  may  be.  However,  Mrs.  Steele, 
I  can  do  nothing.  My  dearest  associations,  my  happiest  memo- 
ries, my  home  alfectiuns,  my  earthlv^  possessions  are  held  in  the 
ghoulish  clutch  of  our  '  domestic  institution,'  as  it  is  termed,  il'w 
are  free  to  act.  A  Northern  home,  and  a  parental  welcome  await 
you.  I  most  heartily  approve  of  your  decision.  My  Scotch  blood 
bears  with  it  a  noble  germ  of  freedom,  but  it  can  never  germinate 
here." 

"My  way  seems  to  have  been  prepared  before  me,  in  receiving 
the  offer  of  your  valuable  friendship,  Miss   Wallace,  and  I  assure 


^k 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  30I 

you   it  is  most  gratefully  appreciated.     How  will  your  good  uncle, 

the  attorney,  meet  my  proposition  ? " 

'•With  entire  approval,  and  all  requisite  assistance.  He  detests 
bondage  as  I  do,  and  yet  the  very  fibres  of  his  life  are  entwined 
in  it." 

Toad  provided  a  basket  of  oranges  and  bananas.  While  par- 
taking of  these,  Lucy  discussed  with  her  friend  a  suit  of  mourning 
for  herself.  Leonore  would  have  crapes,  bombazines  and  bonnets 
brought  to  her  room  for  Lucy's  inspection  and  choice.  She  also 
insisted  upon  having  her  dressmaker  come  to  the  house,  to  cut 
and  fit  Lucy's  dresses  under  her  eye,  tliat  she  might  take  them  to 
the  country  for  completion. 

Lucy's  faded  eyes  slowly  brightened — a  transient  flush  flitted 
often  to  her  cheek.  She  felt  a  new,  healthy  hope  infused  into  her 
spirits  by  the  frank  and  genial  manner  of  her  young,  high-bred 
hostess.  A  luxuriant,  refreshing  sleep  also  fortified  her  for  the 
events  of  the  next  day.  At  an  early  city  hour,  the  carriage,  with 
liveried  driver  and  footman,  was  at  the  door. 

"Come  my  dear  —  shall  I  call  j^ou  Lucy?  —  allow  me,  my  dear 
Lucy  —  that  is  better.  We  are  going  to  uncle's  office ;  he  will  have 
more  leisure  for  us  at  this  hour." 

Now  Lucy's  heart  misgave  her.  Mr.  Fairland's  carriage  had 
ever  passed  her  and  rolled  scornfully  away.  To  enter  this  elegant 
equipage,  when  custom,  caste,  and  her  own  pride  forbade,  must  be 
but  a  polite  acquiescence  in  the  wish  of  her  friend. 

The  drive  was  animating.  The  horses  dashed  off,  exploring  the 
blue,  hazy,  level  streets,  turning  corners  briskly,  clattering  over 
jDavements,  or  throwing  sand  from  springy  heels,  in  the  suburbs. 
Mansions  of  American  lords,  and  huts  of  their  serfs,  glided  past. 

"This  is  a  long  drive,"  remarked  Lucy. 

"Not  too  long,"  gleefully  responded  Leonore.  "TVe  must  take 
an  airing  this  lovely  morning.  You  must  see  Charleston.  This  is 
not  equal  to  our  forest  gallop  at  'Le  Grand  Palais.'  That  was  an 
eventful  one.  We  rode  into  the  jaws  of  death,  and  were  halted 
none  too  soon." 

"It  was  an  eventful  ride,  especially  to  me.  Miss  Leonore.  I 
cannot  understand  the  promptings  that  led  you  to  follow  my  lonely 


302  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

path,  or  that  induced  you  to  offer  hospitality  to  one  reckoned  so 
low  in  the  Southern  social  scale." 

"That  enigma  has  an  easy  solution.  I  liked  j-our  face  and  ap- 
pearance. I  abhorred  the  foolish  pride  that  would  condemn  you 
to  years  of  ostracism,  simply  because  you  were  the  wife  of  an  over- 
seer. I  discerned  your  worth,  and  resolved  to  pay  your  haughty 
neighbors  well  for  their  cold  neglect.  The  ride  proved  my  judg- 
ment correct.  My  dear  Lucy,  you  should  never  have  married  in 
the  manner  you  did.  It  was  a  misfortune.  It  has  dwarfed  the 
noble  and  lovely  aspirations  native  to  your  soul.  In  yielding,  you 
have  felt  yourself  debased;  yet  with  woman's  patient  tact  you  have 
striven  to  be  happy  —  a  desire  which  you  could  not  accomplish. 
Am  I  not  a  seer  ?  " 

As  these  words  were  spoken,  Lucy's  eyes  met  the  keen,  respect 
ful  glance  of  Leonore.  She  hesitated  in  giving  a  reply  that  would 
lay  bare  to  the  eye  of  another  the  bitter  dregs  which  lay  at  the 
bottom  of  this  cup  of  marriage,  of  which  she  at  first  drank  so  ea- 
gerly, and  later,  so  resignedly.  It  seemed  that  her  husband's  grave 
should  conceal  all  past  sufferings  from  mortal  sight. 

"  Pardon  me  —  have  I  wounded  you  ?  "  asked  Leonore.  "  It  was 
not  my  intention ;  I  desired  to  prove  my  sincerity  in  offering 
friendship." 

"  Far  from  it,  Miss  Wallace.  I  cannot  doubt  the  sincerity  of  the 
disinterested  friendship  which  you  offer.  But  I  have  deemed  it  a 
duty  to  bury  in  my  husband's  grave  the  painful  experiences  of  our 
Southern  life.     You  have  read  my  secret  too  well." 

"  My  dear  Lucy,  do  you  not  see  }  We  cannot  follow  the  divine 
injunction,  'Bear  one  another's  burdens,'  unless  we  know  the  na- 
ture and  weight  of  those  burdens.  We  cannot  put  forth  the  neces- 
sary strength.  It  is  a  relief  to  you  to  be  well  understood  by  the 
one  who  attempts  to  sympathyze." 

"Truly,  my  dear  friend,  your  words  are  a  cordial  to  my  needs  ; 
and  believe  me.  Heaven  must  reward  you  for  extending  to  me  in 
this  most  t-iying  period  of  my  life  this  unlocked  for  comfort  and  aid. 

The  carriage  drew  up  before  the  office  of  the  attorney.  A  stal- 
wart gentleman,  past  the  middle  age,  with  a  sprinkling  of  gray  upon 
his  head,  hastened  to  the  carriage  steps,  and  met  his  niece  with  a 
hale,  cheery  welcome. 


WHITE   MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  303 

"Here  comes  my  '  Heather  Bell' !  "  He  extended  both  hands 
to  assist  her  from  the  carriage,  meanwhile  quoting  Burns  in  a  sono- 
rous voice. 

"  O  my  luve's  like  a  red-eed  rose, 

That's  newly  sjDrung  in  June  1 
O  my  luve's  like  a  melodie, 

That's  sweetly  played  in  tune  ! 
As  fair  art  thou,  my'bonnie  lass  ! 

So  deep  in  luve  am  I ; 
And  I  will  luve  thee  still  my  dear, 
,  Till  all  the  seas  gang  dry  I  " 

In  his  office,  Lucy  felt  constraint  banished,  by  his  genial  man 
ners,  by  the  heartiness  with  which  he  advised  and  entered  into  he- 
plans.  She  could  return  to  the  country,  leaving  all  in  his  handsr 
He  would  collect  the  dues  for  the  hire  of  Marquis,  he  would  make 
out  the  free  papers  for  him,  and  for  Binah  with  her  children  •  he 
would  arrange  Mr.  Steele's  cash  deposits  in  the  bank,  so  thai  it 
should  await  her  order  in  New  York.  The  passage  ticket  for  her- 
self and  her  freed  slaves  should  be  ready  for  her  departure 

As  she  rose  to  take  leave,  he  seemed  to  have  observed  the  shade 
of  anxiety  on  her  face,  and  when  he  kindly  bade  her  ^ood-mornino- 
he  said, —  ^  ^* 

"  Be  of  good  cheer,  lassie  !  Get  the  roses  back  to  your  cheeks 
before  you  meet  your  Northern  friends.  Have  no  fears  concern- 
ing the  course  you  have  taken.  Be  assured  upon  my  honor,  that 
our  interview  this  day  will  not  reach  the  public  ear,  or  subject  you 
fair  lady,  to  the  least  inconvenience.  I  return  you  to  the  kind 
hands  that  led  you  here.  Leonore  is  a  bold  defender  of  the  ri^ht 
and  she'll  be  as  true  to  you  as  Jennie  Deans."  ^    * 

^    He  turned  to  his  niece  with  a  look  of  fond  idolatry,  a^ain  repeat- 
ing Burns.  ^  ./^    £3  I' 

"  Fare  thee  weel,  thou  first  and  fairest ! 
Fare  thee  weel,  thou  best  and  dearest! 
Thine  be  ilka  joy  and  treasure, 
Peace,  enjoyment,  love  and  pleasure." 

Lucy  drew   a  sigh  of  happy  relief,  when   the    dashing  horses 
whirled  away.     The  dreaded  task  was  over. 


304  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE. 

*'Gocl  bless  him!"  she  soliloquized.  "  There  are  noble  men 
and  woman  everywhere,  if  one  but  finds  them." 

So  say  we,  dear  reader.  God  bless  him!  for  he  had  poured  the 
wine  of  his  strength  into  the  fainting  spirit  of  his  stricken //-d?/^;^^^. 

The  nascent  impulses  of  her  being  were  springing  into  life,  the 
harbingers  of  happier  days. 

"  I  am  so  glad  it  is  all  over,"  she  said  to  Leonore. 

"I  am  glad  for  you,  dearie,"  replied  the  proud  girl.  "That 
uncle  is  a  shield  and  buckler  to  the  defenceless.  1  have  done 
nothing  for  you  yet.  I  shall  set  directly  about  t-aking  my  turn  now. 
I  shall  call  at  the  shops,  and  order  your  mourning  suit  sent  home 
this  morning.  In  the  rest  and  quiet  of  our  own  room,  we  will  se- 
lect. I  have  already  ordered  Madame  Le  Ronde  to  send  a  dress- 
maker." 

The  driver  reined  up  several  times  to  fashionable  shops.  The 
footman  flew  to  his  post  at  the  carriage  door,  \\ hence  Leonore 
fluttered  in  and  out,  like  a  happy,  careless  bird  from  its  cage. 
Curious  eyes  of  piomenaders  cast  scrutinizing  glances  between  the 
curtains,  upon  the  face  within,  but  dropped  them  as  quickly,  or 
turned  away  with  a  respectful  feeling  of  intrusion.  Lucy  heard  one 
remark  to  another, — 

"  Faultless  as  Juno!     High  blood  there." 

"  That's  so,"  replied  the  other.  "  You  will  find  no  other  in  the 
Wallace  carriage." 

At  home  again  in  the  lovely  room  of  her  hostess.  Toad  served  a 
delicious  lunch  ;  iced  cakes,  preserved  fruits,  cream,  flavored  as 
usual  with  the  bright  words  and  delicate  attentions  of  her  Leonore. 
In  the  ante-room,  a  young  and  handsome  quadroon  seamstress 
waited  their  pleasure.  The  goods  arrived  quickly  ;  merchants  and 
sewing-women  appeared,  bent  upon  pleasing  this  high-toned  family. 
The  remaining  time  of  her  stay,  devoted  to  cutting  and  fitting, 
passed  rapidly  away. 

One  evening,  as  both  sat  before  the  glowing  grate,  conversation 
turned  upon  the  pretty  dressmaker,  who  had  sometime  before  taken 
her  departure. 

''  Is  she  not  handsome,  Lucy  ?  "  asked  Leonore. 

"  I  have  often  found  myself  admiring,  not  only  her  figure  and 
features,  but  have  been  struck  by  her  gentle  grace  and  vivacity.^' 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  305 

*'  True  ;  the  same  with  myself ;  but  then  I  know  she  has  a  law- 
ful claim  to  these  singular  attractions ;  three-fourths  of  her  blood  is 
what  they  term  the  blue  blood  of  the  South.  It  crept  into  her 
veins  from  two  of  the  most  illustrious  names  of  this  State  ;  and 
yet  she  is  but  a  slave  !  subject  to  the  vices  of  her  condition  ! 
condemned  to  labor  for  her  scanty  bread !  forced  to  accept  the  love 
of  Carolina's  proudest  sons,  and  to  yield  it  up  at  their  capricious 
mood,  though  her  life  go  with  it.  I  knew  her  father  well.  He 
was  about  to  marry  a  Saxon  wife,  when  he  forbade  this  girl  an 
entrance  to  his  princely  mansion,  lest  a  chance  sight  of  her  should 
give  pain  to  the  fair  new  claimant  of  his  affections." 

'•  It  is  to  be  hoped  there  are  not  many  such  instances  of  aban- 
donment," replied  Lucy. 

"It  is  the  general  rule ;  this  girl  may  be  multiplied  by  thou- 
sands! These  beautiful  creatures  of  mixed  blood  have  their  horo- 
scopes cast  under  ill-fated  stars.  Their  wrongs  cry  to  Heaven  for 
redress." 

"  Leonore,  you  do  not  suppose  these  girls  are  chosen  at  the  im- 
pulse of  affection  ? " 

''  Most  assuredly  I  do.  A  Southron  never  chooses  what  he  ab- 
hors.    It  is  love  —  the  same  love  that  would  lead  a  wife  to  the  altar. 

*  Love,  like  death 
Levels  all  ranks,  and  lays  the  shepherd's  crook 
Beside  the  sceptre  !  ' 

"  Man  molds  law  and  custom  to  his  own  liking.  For  woman,  he 
changes  his  divinest  attributes  to  instruments  of  torture." 

"And  none  shall  say  nay,"  answered  Lucy. 

"  Not  in  this  day  ;  but  by  the  intuitive  aspirations  of  my  own 
nature,  by  the  irrepressible  indignation  of  my  own  soul,  there  must 
be  a  '  red-letter  day '  somewhere  in  the  economy  of  progression  for 
woman.  There  must  be  honor  and  justice  awaiting  her  some- 
where. 

"  Lucy,  I  congratulate  you  upon  your  return  to  New  England, 
to  a  more  wholesome,  social  atmosphere  than  this.  I  should 
prefer  Northern  snows  and  ices,  to  flower- wreathed  corruption. 
In  enslaving  the  African  race,  we  have  become  mutually  enslaved 
ourselves.'" 


3o6  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  I  have  not  the  courage  of  the  Misses  Grimke,  who  left  homes 
of  luxury  and  opulence,  for  the  rough  paths  of  Truth  and  Right- 
eousness. It  requires  much  self  denial  and  strength  of  purpose, 
to  leave  this  pleasant  land,  friends,  luxury,  and  the  ease  of  a  life 
like  yours,  Leonore." 

•'  Those  two  requisites  the  Misses  Grimke  possessed.  The 
sacriiices  of  those  two  ladies  in  going  out  from  all  they  held  dear 
in  Charleston,  has  no  parallel,  I  am  confident,  in  this  country. 
They  were  delicately  reared,  followed  by  slaves  from  infancy,  of 
excellent  ancestry,  and  surrounded  by  the  allurements  of  rank  and 
wealth.  They  have  lectured  in  the  North,  in  New  York  and 
Boston.     Have  you  ever  had  the  pleasure  of  their  acquaintance  ?  " 

Lucy  replied  in  the  negative,  adding, — 

"  My  life  till  marriage  passed  mostly  in  the  quiet  home-nest ; 
the  voices  of  reformers  seldom  reached  us.  This  distracting 
Constitutional  question  of  which  I  have  heard  and  seen  so  much 
in  this  section,  scarcely  disturbed  our  peace." 

"  Very  different  here,"  said  Leonore.  "  It  is  the  subject  of 
conversation  at  home  and  abroad.  One  would  suppose  our 
'Southern  Institution'  was  the  axis  on  which  the  religious,  moral 
and  political  destiny  of  the  universe  turned." 

This  was  Lucy's  last  evening  in  Charleston  ;  every  word  of  this 
closing  interview  endeared  Leonore  to  her  grateful  remembrance. 
She  had  not  been  presented  to  the  members  of  the  family,  or  the 
family  table,  except  on  one  occasion,  when  the  good  uncle  dined 
with  the  Wallaces. 

Leonore's  mother,  after  a  long  remonstrance  against  the 
vulgarity  of  admitting  an  overseer's  wife  to  the  family  table, 
absented  herself  therefrom.  The  advent  of  this  dinner  was  a  cold 
one,  but  the  father  and  brother  yielded  to  the  charms  of  their 
guest,  and  Lucy  shared  in  the  gallantry  and  etiquette  due  to  her 
culture  and  attractions. 

The  servant  and  chaise  of  Mr.  Fair! and  carried  her  back  to  her 
beloved  child  the  next  day.  Dorcas  took  her  from  the  chaise 
into  her  own  arms ;  old  nurse  stood  by  with  little  Willie  on  her 
shoulder.  The  cook  ran  from  her  kitchen,  breathless  with  warm- 
hearted "  Howdies ;  "   young  Bob  showed  the   handsomest  set  of 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  307 

ivory  ;  and  gathering  his  arms  full  of  packages,  fell   into  the  rear  of 
the  procession  into  the  house. 

"  De  young  missis  look  well,"  they  exclaimed. 

"  Look  so  better/'  said  the  old  nurse. 

"Miss  Leonore  good  frien',''  said  the  cook;  "make  missis  look 
hansum  gin.  Little  Willie  been  good  chile ;  Dorcas  tote  him  ebry 
day." 

The  affectionate  greeting  of  Lucy's  true-hearted  friends  was 
another  draught  of  strength.  Her  boy  had  never  been  so  dear  as 
after  this  long  absence.  She  held  him  to  her  heart,  bestowing 
kisses  upon  his  chubby  face  and  dimpled  hands.  Surely,  she 
thought,  out  of  my  barren  life,  one  snowy  blossom  has  sprung. 
*'  Oh  !  he  shall  be  saved  from  a  Southern  destiny.  I  will  guide 
his  feet  into  pure  and  innocent  paths.  He  shall  redeem  his 
father's  errors  ;  he  shall  be  my  pride  and  joy." 

Preparations  for  her  departure  went  steadily  forward.  Accord- 
ing to  her  commands,  Binah,  her  children  and  grandchildren,  were 
sent  to  the  house  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  their  new  mistress, 
and  to  get  the  confidence  of  little  Willie,  for  Binah  should  be  his 
traveling  nurse. 

One  day  when  Binah  and  her  mistress  were  alone,  Lucy  asked, — 

"  Do  vou  like  the  North,  Binah  ?  " 

"  Dunno  missis  ;  dunno  de  Nort,  missis." 

"  Would  you  like  to  be  free,  Binah  ?  " 

"  ]\Ie  no  free  in  'Merriky ;  me  free  in  Afriky ;  me  free  dere  in  de 
big  wood  ;  free  under  date  tree.  Me  free  by  de  riber  wid  de  gol* 
san'.     No  free  in  'Merriky." 

"Yes  Binah,  you    can  be  free,  and   I  shall  make  you  free  in  the 
North,  where  we  are  going.     Binah  will  be  no  slave  there." 

"  Dat  can't  be  nowhar  ;  mus  bab  de  marse,  de  oberseer." 
coolly  replied  the  unbelieving  voice  of  the  African. 

"Yes,  it  can  be,  Binah  ;  it  willho..  You  will  have  no  master,  no 
mistress,  or  overseer." 

The  articles  she  held  in  her  hands  fell  into  the  box  she  was  pack- 
ing. Dropping  quickly  upon  her  knees  before  Lucy,  she  bowed 
before  her  even  to  touching  her  forehead  to  the  floor,  after  the 
manner  of  a  Moslem  worshipper.     Since  she  had  been  stolen  from 


308  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

the  green  labyrinths  of  her  native  country,  she  had  learned  a  better 
name  than  her  dumb  idol  or  Fetich.  She  therefore  called  upon  the 
new  Helper;  sighs  and  groans  mingled  with  "Oh!  Jesus,  mine 
Jesus!  Heabenly  Marster !  Binah  free!  Tink  Binah  chilen  all 
sell  in  de  Nort  country  !  " 

Lucy  counteracted  the  mistaken  sorrow  by  soothing  words,  bid- 
ding her  rise  to  her  feet.  She  was  so  perfect  a  slave,  that  to  have 
undertaken  to  make  her  sit,  would  have  doubled  the  difticultv. 

"  Now  Binah,  do  raise  your  eyes  and  look  at  me  while  I  make 
you  understand  all." 

"  Can't  look  *  buckra  ' !     You  be  missis  !  " 

Her  eyes  raised  however,  but  raised  wide  of  the  mark. 

"Now  look  me  in  my  face,"  said  Lucy,  "you  are  looking  to  my 
right." 

"  Look  to  young  Marse  Willie,"  said  Binah. 

The  ludicrousness  of  this  first  lessen  in  freedom  struck  both. 
Lucy  could  not  restrain  a  burst  of  laughter.  A  frightened  smile 
played  round  Binah's  snowy  ivory,  whiter  than  the  elephant  tusks 
in  her  native  jungles. 

"  Binah,"  resumed  her  mistress,  "you  must  look  people  in  the 
face,  North,  for  you  will  work  for  them,  and  take  the  money  in  your 
own  hands.  It  will  be  yours,  and  you  can  go  to  the  stores  and  buy 
what  you  please  with  it  for  yourself  and  your  children.  Your  chil- 
dren will  be  free  also,  and  never  be  sold  away.  They  will  live 
with  you  forever.  They  can  go  to  school  and  learn  the  book,  like 
Mr.  Fairland's  children." 

Binah  moved  not.  Her  hands  and  eyes  were  raised  upwards. 
The  smile  changed  into  a  look  of  intense  and  solemn  adoration. 

"  Tank  de  Lord  !     Bress  he  name  !  " 

Lucy  recalled  her  attention. 

"Do  you  understand,  Binah?" 

"  Yes,  missis  !  me  dig  sweet  tater,  tote  rice,  hoe  de  cotton  in  de 
Nort,  an'  hab  de  money  me  one  ;  hab  my  chilen,  neber  sole." 

Her  weak  conception  could  not  grasp  the  full  idea  of  freedom. 
She  asked,  looking  away  to  the  south  window, — 

"  No  driver  whip  dere  missis  for  Binah  back  ?     No  t'umb  screw  ?  " 

"  No,  no !  no  driver,  no  whip,  no  cotton,  no  rice,  no  thumb-screw, 
no  overseers  there." 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  309 

"What  Binah  an'  de  chilen  do  widout  de  cotton  and  de  yam?" 

"  You  can  learn  to  scrub  and  wash,  perhaps  to  cook.  You  will 
get  plenty  of  work  and  heap  of  money  ;  wash  for  everybody.  Now 
you  see  we  are  alone  in  this  room.  I  have  told  you  that  you  w'ill 
be  free,  so  you  can  be  happy  on  your  journey ;  but  Binah,  look  at 
me  !  No  one  here  knows  a  word  of  it,  not  even  old  nurse.  Can 
you  keep  it  a  secret  .^  keep  it  in  here  ?"  pointing  to  her  heart. 
"  These  masters  might  prevent  it ;    do  not  tell  one  of  the  servants." 

"Me  neber  spoke  one  settle  word.  Me  tell  only  Jesus  in  de 
dark  night,  when  roll  up  in  de  blanket  on  de  fioo'." 

Binah  went  on  packing.  It  was  a  happiness  to  Lucy,  to  witness 
the  daily  change  settling  upon  the  seamed  and  patient  face  of  her 
slave ;  the  mysterious  elasticity  which  crept  into  every  step ;  the 
quickened  ear  to  catch  the  least  expression  of  her  mistress'  wishes, 
her  tender  devotion  to  little  Willie,  and  her  watchful  reticence 
towards  the  other  servants.  The  dull,  apathetic  bond  slave  became 
the  quick,  eager,  active,  sisterly  woman,  almost  bearing  Lucy  in  her 
arms  through  the  difficulties  of  a  final  removal  from  the  home  of 
years. 

One  week  had  passed  since  she  left  Leonore.  Little  Willie,  wild 
with  infantile  gayety  the  night  previous,  awoke  in  the  morning,  hot 
with  the  ever-dreaded  fever  flush.  All  day  the  pale  mother  held 
her  darling  in  her  tired  arms.  At  sunset,  his  pulses  indicated  no 
improvement.  The  parish  physician  came,  thought  the  malady 
might  yield  to  prescriptions,  and  left. 

The  watches  of  the  long,  anxious  night  were  kept  with  Lucy,  by 
Dorcas,  Binah  and  old  nurse.  She  was  forced  to  yield  the  charge 
of  her  boy  to  others,  and  to  sink  weeping  and  fainting  upon  a  couch 
of  rest. 

Morning  symptoms  excited  new  alarm.  His  weak  voice  called 
deliriously  for  papa.  "  Papa  !  papa  !  papa  gone  !  "  thus  innocently, 
painfully  weaving  Lucy's  past  with  the  agonizing  present. 

The  setting  sun  cast  his  crimson  rays  upon  the  marble  face  and 
white  shroud  of  little  Willie,  in  the  same  room  where  his  father  was 
laid.  On  a  sofa,  drawn  close  to  the  side  of  the  child,  reposed  the 
w^hite  and  scarcely  breathing  figure  of  Lucy.  Her  heavy  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  her  lost  darling,  and  no  persuasion  could  separate  her 
from  him.     Equally  inflexible  was  Binah,  standing  hour  after  hour 


3IO  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

at  the  feet  of  her  bereaved  mistress  and  the  beautiful  dead.     Her 
hand  hushed  every  voice  and  softened  every  step. 

Two  days  after,  a  mournful  procession  move  again  to  the  shade 
of  the  magnolias  by  the  river.  Lucy's  heroic  fortitude  failed  at  the 
open  grave,  prepared  for  the  tender  being  which  had  nestled  in  her 
fondest  affections.  She  sank  upon  the  sod  and  embraced  the  tiny 
flower-wreathed  cofhn,  as  if  to  hold  it  forever  from  its  tomb.  Her 
moans  and  uncontrollable  grief  brought  tears  to  every  eye. 

Dorcas  and  Binah  wound  their  loving  arms  about  her  and  im- 
plored her  to  return  with  them. 

"Leave  him  wid  his  papa,  dearie.  See  how  de  sun  smile  roun' 
him  now.  De  Lord  take  care  Willie  ;  come  'way,  dearie.  Him 
anoel  now,'*  whispered  Binah,  motioning  to  the  others  to  let  his 
coffin  remain  on  the  grass,  till  they  had  reached  the  house.  They 
almost  bore  her  there,  to  her  apartment  and  to  her  bed. 

A  long,  tedious  sickness  followed,  in  its  terrible  and  debilitating 
course.  Reason  became  dethroned  and  thus  the  two-edged  sword 
of  her  calamity  became  blunted.  Youth  and  a  good  constitution 
prevailed.  She  slowly  recovered  and  calmly  took  up  the  thread  of 
life,  where  it  had  been  parted. 

Thus  perished  the  name  of  William  Steele  from  the  face  of  the 
earth.  Thus,  in  the  death  of  his  son,  did  retributive  justice  demand 
payment  for  the  fair  and  frail  young  life,  which  years  before,  he 
threw  out  upon  the  surging  waves  of  a  cruel  destiny. 


CHAPTER  XVL 

THE  library  of  General  Terreciene  was  thrown  open  to  the 
charms  of  the  surrounding  gardens.  The  general,  with  his 
four  guests,  reposed  in  various  easy  positions  on  the  broad  piazza, 
in  front  of  the  long  windows  open  to  the  floor. 

These  were  Dentelle  of  Georgia,  Rev.  Fred  Warham  from 
*'  Breezy  Bluff,"  South  CaroHna,  Colonel  Ashland  and  Chancellor 
Mowndes  from  Charleston. 

It  was  just  after  a  luxurious  dinner;  continued  conversation  was 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  31I 

a  fruitless  effort,  and  each  held  a  book  or  paper,  reading,  ponder- 
ing or  smoking,  each  to  his  liking. 

Within,  the  glass  doors  of  the  oaken  book-cases  lined  with  green 
fluted  satin,  were  either  ajar  or  swung  open,  disclobing  the  costly- 
treasures  of  the  world  of  science  and  mind  in  their  material  dress 
of  elegant  bindings. 

The  air  within  and  without,  was  perfumed  with  sweetness.  The 
sun  sank  lower,  till  the  slant  rays  of  its  setting  so  illuminated  and 
vivified  the  floral  colors  and  greens  of  the  garden,  that  massive 
rubies,  topazes,  amethysts,  turquoises  and  pearls  seemed  suspended 
among  Aladdin-like  foliage  of  beryl  and  chrysoprase. 

Here  and  there,  in  the  grounds,  were  evergreen  divans  and  chairs, 
trimmed  into  forms  according  to  French  taste.  There  were  ever- 
green tables  ;  from  the  centres  of  their  clipped  velvety  plains,  roses 
and  clustered  blossoms  spring  up  as  if  a  vase  of  cut  flowers  were 
placed  thereon.  There  were  roses  of  vivid,  fiery-red,  and  carmine 
shaded  with  purple ;  overhanging  the  arms  of  these  leafy  divans 
and  chairs,  climed  Bourbon  Roses  for  the  pleasure  of  the  fays  and 
fairies  that  might  sit  there  in  the  dewy  moonlight. 

The  greenish-white  "Bourbon  Queen"  here,  and  the  "Glory  of 
France,"  there. 

Down  at  the  end  of  a  broad  w^hite,  gravelled  walk  fronting  the 
library,  stood  a  white  marble  "Terpsichore,"  whose  stony  grace 
warmed  to  pinken  flesh  in  the  crimson  evening  rays.  Her  fingers 
rested  on  the  strings  of  her  lyre ;  her  bare  feet  and  half  nude  limbs 
were  in  the  attitude  of  an  airy  dance. 

A  tall,  thrifty  rose,  the  Empereur  dii  Moroc  appropriately  shot  up 
by  her  side,  and  laid  a  voluptuous  blossom  and  bud  of  blooded  car- 
mine on  her  marble  shoulder,  and  a  royal  cluster  on  her  rounded 
arm.  She  seemed  to  dance  on  their  velvety  hearts,  which  bent 
purposely  around  and  beneath  her  feet. 

On  the  right  of  the  walk  towards  the  red  sun,  a  glittering  foun- 
tain threw  up  its  slender  jets,  which  broke  into  crystal  spray  and 
drops  of  rainbow  hues,  as  they  fell  back  in  curves  into  the  shallow 
marble  basin,  and  dripped  musically  from  its  scalloped,  shell-like 
border. 

The  carriage  drive  into  this  paradise  of  beauty  and  fragrance 
led  from  the  dusty  street,  under  an  ornamental  iron  arch,  festooned 


312  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

with  ivy,  its  hard  track  ran  past  the  piazza  and  wound  around  the 
garden  and  fountain.  From  the  piazza  eaves,  over  the  entrance  to 
the  Hbrar}^  dropped  heavy  yellow  buds  and  blossoms  of  the  "  Cloth 
of  Gold  "  intertwined  with  the  tiny  pink  clusters  of  a  more  delicate 
climber. 

Soon  the  glories  of  the  garden  in  dusky  twilight  faded  into  beau- 
tiful phantoms,  and  the  library  was  lighted  by  its  gold-bronzed 
chandeliers. 

Tier  upon  tier  of  crystal  fringes  around  this  corona  of  light, 
caught  up  the  fragmentary  rainbows  of  the  fountain,  and  cast  their 
fairy  scintillations  down  upon  the  guests,  now  slowly  gathering  be- 
neath its  glory.  Carriages  rolled  in,  under  the  ivy-wreathed  arch. 
Servants  in  livery  waited  on  the  piazza  to  welcome  those  arriving  to 
the  luxuries  of  Southern  hospitalities. 

Two  spacious  parlors  in  a  line  with  the  library,  opened  from  it 
into  one.  The  elegance  and  extravagance  of  the  French  furniture 
satisfied  the  most  fastidious.  Vases  of  living  flowers  scattered 
fragrance  from  every  corner,  table,  bracket  and  other  improvised 
repositories.  The  mossy  carpet  vied  with  the  garden  in  roses, 
campanulas  and  Eleur-dc-lis.  These  two  salojis  were  lighted  by 
several  massive  silver  candelabra,  fastened  to  the  walls.  From 
their  bases  were  suspended  silver  baskets  of  exquisite  flowers, 
whose  tall  clusters  shot  up  among  the  bright  chasings  or  entwined 
the  polished  shafts,  seeming  to  feed  the  soft  flames  of  the  waxen 
candles  with  their  delicious  aroma. 

General  Terreceine,  the  lordly  owner  of  this  palatial  home  in  St. 
Louis,  had  never  done  a  hand's  turn  of  labor  in  his  life.  The  ex- 
tent of  physical  exertion  from  his  childhood,  was  the  conveyance  of 
epicurean  morsels  from  a  china  plate  to  his  mouth  ;  to  lift  to  his 
critical  lips  crystal  glasses  of  various-hued  wines,  from  the  most 
celebrated  vintages  of  the  old  world  :  to  inhale  the  indolent  narco- 
tine  of  tobacco  leaves  rolled  in  seductive  forms  ;  to  rise,  unaided 
from  his  chair  and  pass  through  doors  opening  at  his  approach  and 
closing  after  him,  without  an  effort  on  his  part ;  to  proceed  to  his 
waiting  carriage  and  be  driven  with  ease  and  swiftness  to  any  point 
his  will  might  dictate ;  to  hold  the  papers  of  the  day  in  his  two  soft 
white  hands,  and  to  gloat  over  Southern  political  successes,  or  to 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  313 

Stamp  with  fury  under  his  feet,  editorials  and  items  hinting  at  any 
accountability  higher  than  the  American  slave-holder. 

General  Terreceine's  manners  often  attained  to  the  address  of 
the  courtier;  when  occasion  required,  his  sweetness  of  speech 
could  not  be  surpassed.     This  evening  was  one  of  those  occasions. 

His  salons  were  filled  with  the  proud  and  gay  elite  of  St.  Louis. 
The  fashion,  beauty,  wit  and  sentiment  of  his  native  city  thronged 
the  fairy  rooms,  or  swept  out  into  the  broad  and  fragrant  walks  of 
the  moonlighted  gardens.  Balmy  as  a  morning  zephyr,  his  voice 
attuned  to  the  low,  soft  tones  of  an  Eolian  harp,  the  general  glided 
among  the  smiling  dames  and  demoiselles  of  Missouri's  peerage. 

It  was  well  understood  that  the  brilHant  assemblage  was  called 
together  in  honor  of  his  distinguished  guests  from  the  two  Atlantic 
States,  South  Carolina  and  Georgia,  Colonel  Ashland,  Rev.  Frederic 
Warham,  Major  Dentelle  and  Chancellor  Mowndes. 

_  The  introductions  were  unexceptional  on  both  sides.  Ladies 
vied  with  each  other  in  bestowing  marked  favors  upon  these  emi- 
nent sons  of  the  South.  The  silver  moonlight,  the  flower-fed  can- 
delabra, and  the  iris-hued  chandelier  paled  beneath  the  sparkling 
brightness  and  the  welcoming  glances  of  Missouri's  fair  daughters. 

The  public  prowess  of  Calhoun  and  Benton,  their  respective 
leaders,  received  the  sweet-lipped  homage  of  woman.  Madame 
Archibald,  the  elegant  and  acknowledged  leader  of  St.  Louis  ton, 
sitting  near  Colonel  Ashland,  congratulated  him  upon  the  public- 
spirited  demonstration  of  the  freedom-loving  citizens  of  Charleston, 
in  the  burning  of  the  Northern  mails,  holding  incendiary  matter. 

Mrs.  Lambelle,  who  had  just  entered  from  a  stroll  in  the  garden 
on  the  arm  of  the  Rev.  Fred,  begged  to  be  informed  of  the  particu- 
lars ;  she  had  but  just  returned  from  Italy  and  knew  nothing  at  all 
of  the  affair. 

^  "  Colonel  Ashland,  let  us  all  hear.  We  are  your  most  attentive 
listeners  "  echoed  several  voices. 

"I  am  forced  to  say,  my  dear  ladies,  with  much  regret,  that  I 
was  not  present;  but  can  refer  you  to  my  friend.  Chancellor 
Mowndes,  a  Charlestonian  and  a  participant  in  that  scene." 

With  a  slight  motion  of  his  hand,  he  called  that  gentleman  from 
the  library  to  the  inquiring  group  about  him.  Mrs.  Lambelle,  still 
standing,  preferred  her  request   to  the  chancellor.     She  was  the 


314  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

most  beautiful  woman  in  that  assembly;  youthful,  and  in  the  luxu- 
riant bloom  of  those  physicsl  perfections,  which  are  considered 
necessary  to  the  idols  of  high-bred  gentlemen  of  the  world.  Her 
skin  was  of  satiny  whiteness,  with  a  color  of  palest  apple-blossom 
tint.  Her  child-like,  dimpling  neck  and  rounded  arms  were  bare, 
and  glittering  with  diamonds  —  the  insignia  of  rank  in  those  days. 
Her  abundant  hair  was  the  admiration  of  every  beholder ;  its  color 
was  unique.  Neither  sandy,  that  were  too  warm;  neither  flaxen, 
that  were  too  cold.  It  was  not  maize,  but  had  a  shade  of  each, 
something  between  the  shining  filaments  of  corn- silk  and  the  pale 
gloss  of  wheaten  straw.  She  came  at  sunset,  to  Madame  Terreceine, 
wearing  it  in  long,  braided  coils  about  her  head,  supported  by  a 
comb  of  Turquoise  and  diamonds.  The  madame,  meeting  her  in 
the  spacious  dressing-room  with  an  affectionate  embrace,  begged 
her  consent  to  wear  those  braids  unbound  for  the  evening,  as  she 
saw  it  in  a  recent  call  at  the  house  of  her  friend,  with  whom  Mrs. 
Lambelle  was  staying. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Madame  Terreceine,  "  your  entrancing  vision  has 
haunted  me  ever  since  that  day.  You  shall  be  the  goddess  "  Ceres  " 
with  the  beautiful  wheaten  harvests  of  our  Western  land  floating 
about  your  superb  shoulders.     Mo?i  Dieu  !  ravissant  f  " 

"  Since  you  desire  it,  my  dear  madame,  I  cannot  doubt  the  pro- 
priety," replied  the  fair  Lambelle  ;  and  calling  Cossetina,  her  little 
Italian  maid,  brought  from  Florence,  she  bade  her  in  Italian  re- 
move the  comb  and  unloose  the  braids.  The  maid  took  from  her 
mistress'  dressing-case,  a  diamond  crescent,  fastened  it  to  a  narrow 
band  of  blue  velvet,  and  fixed  it  at  the  parting  above  her  brow. 
Now,  as  she  stood  in  expectation,  leaning  upon  the  arm  of  her 
escort,  every  eye  was  fixed  upon  her  wonderful  beauty. 

Her  trailing  robe  of  pale  blue  gauze,  sprinkled  with  silver,  was 
gathered  in  one  falling  hand,  and  her  figure  had  the  graceful  pose 
of  inclination  to  the  last  speaker ;  and  the  long,  wavy,  silken  straw  of 
her  hair,  fallen  forward,  veiled  her  rounded,  shoulder  and  the  white 
arm  at  her  side. 

From  lip  to  lip  passed  whispered  praise. 

"  Entrancing !  "     "  Raviseante !  "     Perfectly  unique  !  " 

"  A  lovely  vision  of  mythology  "     General  Terreceine,  an  adept 


WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  315 

in  feminine   charms,  exclaimed  to  his  friend   standing  in  the  win- 
dow. 

'■'■Quelle  merveille/^-  Quelles  tresses!"  To  which  the  other 
quickly  responded, — 

"  Man  Dieu  !  c'est  une  ange  !  c'est  une  enchantemeiit  P^ 

Chancellor  Mowndes'  egress  from  the  library  caused  a  break  in 
the  conversation,  and  the  glances  of  several  inquisitively  followed. 
Dentelle  was  engaged  in  deep  discussion  of  the  turf  and  the 
chase,  with  a  young  Missourian  of  the  same  sporting  tastes  as 
himself.  The  latter,  glancing  through  the  folding  doors  into  the 
parlors,  said  excitedly, — 

"Juno!  Venus!  Calypro !  and  all  the  rest!  Dentelle,  look 
at  that !  Did  she  drop  down  from  Olympus,  or  the  third  heavens  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  suppose  she  must  be  the  belle  of  St.  Louis.  I  have 
heard  high  praise  of  your  Western  beauties.  I  am  prepared  to  find 
our  Charleston  belles  eclipsed." 

"Highly  complimentary,  my  friend  !  Under  many  obligations! 
but  I  swear,  Dentelle,  that  goddess  is  not  a  native  of  this  city.  I 
know  every  lady  here  that  is  worth  knowing,  and  they're  all  under 
a  cloud,  now.  By  the  gods !  I  must  ask  an  introduction  this  night, 
and  sue  for  favor." 

"  New  opinions  differ  on  woman's  charms,"  said  Dentelle.  "  I 
might  adjudge  the  silver  cup  to  your  Western  reigning  belle.  Is 
she  here  to-night?" 

Bloodling,  the  young  sportsman,  sat  erect,  throwing  a  rapid  look 
over  the  gay  throng  of  the  two  parlors. 

"  Do  not  see  her,"  he  said.  "  She  is  petite^  however ;  is  prob- 
ably overshadowed  by  the  majesty  of  those  in  front.  Nwiporte I 
I  am  lost  in  the  transcendent  charms  of  this  stranger.  Gods  1  what 
tresses !  It's  a  wheat  harvest  woven  of  the  sun's  rays.  Let  us 
draw  near  the  mystic  circle." 

"  Let  us  follow  the  chancellor,"  suggested  Dentelle. 

"Precisely!  I'd  bolt  the  dem'dest,  finest  steeplechase  in  the 
world,  for  a  smile  from  such  lips."  He  rose  ;  his  tall,  slender 
form  was  a  match  for  the  Georgian's.  "Let  us  go,"  he  urged,  "or 
those  pale  yellow  tresses  will  turn  to  Psyche's  butterfly  wings,  and 
bear  her  heavenward!     I  adore  horses,  but  woman,  more." 


3l6  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

The  chancellor  had  already  begun  his  narrative  of  the  burning 
of  Northern  mails  at  Charleston.  As  they  drew  near  he  was  say- 
ino"  — ^ 

"  I  was  an  actor  in  the  scene.  We  had  intimation  that  the 
mail  of  that  day  would  bring  toCharleston  an  unusual  quantity  of 
incendiary  documents.  You  know,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  aboli- 
tionists take  it  upon  themselves  to  send  to  leading  Southern  men 
such  speeches,  proceedings  and  arguments  against  slavery  as  they 
falsely  suppose  will  appeal  to  our  religious  natures." 

"  And  soften  our  inflexible  hearts,"  added  General  Terreceine. 

"  There  are  no  arguments  higher  than  the  Bible,"  said  Miss 
Nina  Call,  a  young  lady  of  the  severe  Minerva  type. 

"  Very  true,"  bowed  the  chancellor.  "  It  was  that  issue  that 
called  together  the  clergyman  of  our  city  in  a  body  on  the  occa- 
sion, and  also  to  show  these  meddling  Northerners  that  our  State 
Rights  should  remain  intact.  But,  as  I  was  saying,  the  reverend 
clergy  came  forward  voluntarily,  in  a  body,  to  assist  in  searching 
and  rifling  the  mails  of  its  dangerous  elements  ;  they  tore  open 
letters  and  papers,  refolded  and  sealed  business  and  commercial 
communications  for  their  lawful  destination.  A//  were  as  one  man  ; 
brokers,  bankers,  consignees  and  commissioners,  received  their 
mutilated  correspondence,  as  sacred  relics  of  a  declaration  of  our 
sovereign  will." 

Here  arose  an  enthusiastic  clapping  of  soft  gloved  hands,  and  a 
confusion  of  exultant  cheers. 

"Do  inform  us,  my  dear  chancellor,"  asked  Mrs.  Archibald, 
"what  part  the  ladies  took  upon  themselves." 

"True!  what  did  their  faithful  patriotism  proffer?"  joined 
Madame  Lambelle,  at  the  same  moment  tossing  back  the  wavy 
mass  from  her  snowy  neck  and  arm. 

"My  fair  lady,"  answered  the  speaker,  "their  sacrifices  far 
exceeded  ours.  They  voluntarily  offered  the  exposure  of  the  most 
delicate  trersures  of  their  hearts  ;  their  precious  friendships,  the 
delicious  language  of  tender  sentiment,  the  ardent  vows  of  absent 
loves,  every  blossom  of  woman's  purest  confidences.  They  gave 
all  to  the  public  gaze,  for  the  public  good." 

"  Bravo  !  bravo  !  bravo ! "  tinkled  forth  voices  sensibly  affected 
by   such  lofty   martyrdom ;   a  few  hands   nervously  clapped,  and 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  317 

many  elegant  bits  of  embroidered  linen  and  lace  were  carried  to 
tearful  and  downcast  eyes. 

After  a  short  and  respectful  silence  he  continued, — 

"When  the  search  was  concluded,  there  was  a  large  pile  of 
obnoxious  matter  lying  on  the  floor  of  the  post-office.  These 
were  gathered  up  and  carried  to  the  street.  Every  avenue  lead- 
ing to  the  spot  was  crowded  by  interested  spectators  of  the  South- 
ern Holocaust ;  the  fury  of  our  people  knew  no  bounds  ;  they  w^ere 
frantic. 

"  They  alternately  cheered  and  cursed. —  they  bellowed  forth 
threats  of  vengeance  against  Northern  fanatics.  The  windows 
and  roofs  of  surrounding  buildings  swarmed  with  applauding 
observers." 

'•'  It  must  have  been  charming,"  exclaimed  Miss  Call  with 
enthusiasm. 

Chancellor  Mowndes  bowed  and  proceeded, — 

*'  A  committee  of  clergymen  and  planters  advanced  with  lighted 
torches.  And  w^hen  the  lapping  flames  arose  over  the  insurrection- 
ary missives,  consuming  them  to  blackened  ashes,  from  street, 
from  pavement,  from  roof,  from  verandah,  arose  a  prolonged  cheer 
and  a  yell  which  proclaimed  to  the  North, '  TJius  far^  ajid  no  farther^ 
Here  let  insolence  be  stayed.  " 

Tumultuous  approbation,  quite  overstepping  the  conventional 
politeness  of  an  evening  party,  prevailed 

General  Terreceine,  the  last  to  forget  his  impromptu  blaridness, 
rose  fiercely,  and  with  fervid  gestures  asserted  his  belief  that  the 
burning  of  that  Charleston  mail  had  been  conclusive,  that  the 
smoldering  flames  of  that  cursed  heap  of  fanaticism  had  broken 
out  in  a  running  fire  from  post-ofiice  to  post-office,  throughout 
our  section.  That  step,  united  with  the  Southern  threats  which 
had  already  been  promulgated  against  the  abolitionists,  would 
deter  them  from  further  interference  in  Southern  affairs. 

His  face  grew  livid,  his  enunciation  rapid.  Pointing  south- 
ward, he  exclaimed, — 

"  New  Orleans  is  wide  awake  !  The  '  True  American '  assures 
the  Bostonians,  'if  those  who  have  embarked  in  the  nefarious 
scheme  of  abolishing  slavery  at  the  South  show  themselves  in 
Louisiana,  their   backs  will  be  spared  lashes,  but  they  shall    expi- 


3l8  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

ate  their  crime  by  being  burned  at  the  stake  !  ' "  His  figure 
moved  ominously  to  the  east,  and  vehemently  shook  as  he 
exclaimed, — 

"The  dastardly  poltroons  dare  not  set  foot  on  Southern  soil  !" 
Every  lip  murmured  assent. 

Madame  Archibald  related  her  experience  in  Mississipi  after 
the  burning  of  the  mail  in  Charleston. 

"  The  parish  came  together  in  a  church.  After  a  most  touch- 
ing and  most  beautiful  prayer  by  the  pastor,  the  people  entered 
into  excited  deliberation  ;  and  finally  passed  this  resolution. 

'• '  That  any  individual  who  dares  to  circulate  any  of  the  incendiary 
tracts  and  newspapers,  now  in  the  course  of  transmission  to  this 
country,  is  justly  worthy  in  the  sight  of  God  and  man,  of  imme- 
diate DEATH.'  " 

"  Madame  Archibald's  relation  fully  substantiated  the  sagacity 
of  our  honored  host,"  observed  Major  Dentelle.  "  I  also  have  the 
pleasure  of  showing  that  Georgia  responds  to  that  sentiment. 
The  tocsin  from  Augusta  is  heard  in  these  words.  'Theory  of 
the  whole  South  should  be  death,  instant  death!  to  the  aboli- 
tionist, wdierever  he  is  caught.' " 

"  Let  me  speak  for  my  native  State,"  added  Captain  Bloodling, 
his  eyes  fastened  upon  Madame  Lambelle.  "  Missouri  is  on  the 
'  double  quick '  with  other  States.  The  '  Argus  '  has  it  that  '  aboli- 
tion editors  in  Slave  States  dare  not  avow  their  opinions.  It  would 
be  instant  death  to  them.'  " 

Colonel  Ashland  thought  with  Henry  A.  Wise  of  Virginia,  that 
the  surest  prescription  for  abolitionists,  was  "  Dupont's  best  (gun- 
powder) and  cold  steel.'"' 

"The  same  righteous  determination  pervades  every  Southern 
State,  I  believe,"  remarked  the  silver-voiced  Madame  Lambelle,  the 
apple-blossom  color  deepening,  and  the  clear  blue  of  her  eyes  light- 
ing up  with  a  singular  fire.  "  I  saw  a  communication  from  the 
Rev.  J.  S.  Witherspone,  an  Alabamaian,  to  the  '  Emancipator  '  in 
New  York,  in  which  he  says,  *  If  their  emissaries  cross  the  Potomac 
he  can  promise  that  their  fate  will  be  no  less  than  Haman's." 

"  You  are  right,  my  dear  lady,"  replied  General  Terreceine. 
*' This  determination    is    unanimous;"    but,  in   a   manner  visibly 


WHITE   MAY,   AND      BLACK   JUNE.  319 

disturbed,  he  asked,  "  how  her  attention  was  called  to  the  '  Emanci- 
pator ? '  " 

With  a  bright  smile  and  another  sparkle  of  the  singular  light  in 
her  blue  eyes,  she  replied  with  a  most  courteous  inclination  of  her 
head, — 

"  By  a  Southern  gentleman,  sir,  staying  at  the  same  hotel." 
Turning  carelessly  to  Rev.  Mr.  Warham,  she  remarked, ''  The  North- 
ern people  know  very  little  of  slavery ;  its  real  necessities  or  its 
demands." 

His  admiring  gaze  was  turned  upon  the  speaker  by  his  side. 

"  Very  true,  Madame  Lambelle  ;  neither  do  they  understand  that 
they  are  meddling  with  red-hot  coals,  when  they  meddle  with  it 
and  us." 

"Nor  will  not,  until  their  fingers  are  burned  to  blackened  crisp," 
ejaculated  the  host  in  his  usual  defiant  style. 

"  A.nd  yet,  sir,"  resumed  the  lady,  "I  wish  to  exhonorate  my  own 
State,  New  York,  from  deserved  accusation.  Shall  I  take  the  lib- 
erty of  doing  so  t  " 

'•  Most  assuredh^"  was  granted  on  all  sides. 

"Thank  you.  Not  long  since,  those  holding  Anti-Slavery  princi- 
ples were  to  meet  at  Utica  for  the  avowed  purpose  of  forming  a 
State  organization.  They  were,  however,  driven  from  the  Court 
House  by  a  body  of  prominent  and  respectable  citizens,  who  inten- 
tionally occupied  that  building  beforehand.  These  people  arrived 
to  the  number  of  six  or  eight  hundred.  They  entered  one  of  the 
chambers  ;  there,  they  were  met  by  a  large  concourse  of  citizens, 
who  accused  them  of  plotting  the  dissolution  of  the  American  Union. 
The  abolitionists  were  driven  from  the  church  with  denunciations 
and  threats.  The  Honorable  Samuel  Beardsley,  member  of  Con- 
gress, declared,  'the  disgrace  of  having  an  Abolition  Convention 
held  in  the  city  is  a  deeper  one  than  that  of  twenty  mobs,  and  that 
it  would  be  better  to  have  Utica  razed  to  its  foundation,  or  to  have 
it  destroyed,  like  Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  than  to  have  the  conven- 
tion meet  there.'  " 

"  All  honor  to  New  York  !  "  said  the  sportsman  Bloodling  ;  "  and 
thrice  honored  be  the  Honorable  Samuel  Beardsley,"  from  several 
others. 

While  she  was  speaking,  a  bevy  of  guests  from  the  bright  gar- 


320  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

dens  drew  around  the  doors  and  windows  of  the  parlor, —  five 
gentlemen  and  two  ladies.  One  of  the  two  ladies,  about  whom  the 
others  seemed  to  revolve,  had  features  coldly  Grecian,  with  the 
complexion  of  a  brunette.  Her  eyes  and  hair  were  of  shadowy 
blackness.  On  the  left  side,  among  her  braids,  glowed  a  bright 
scarlet  rose,  trailing  its  leaves  and  red  buds  down  her  Spanish 
shoulders  to  her  bodice  of  cherry  satin.  Her  trailing  skirt  of  India 
muslin  was  banded  and  fluted  with  the  same  bright  color. 

She  might  have  had  a  more  imposing  line  of  descent  than  others 
present, —  running  back  to  the  Indian  hills.  Her  ancestors  might 
have  gone  up  before  the  golden  cherubim  of  "  Solomon's  Temple," 
and  before  the  "  molten  sea,"  standing  upon  twelve  oxen,  the  brim 
wrought  with  "flowers  of  lilies."  She  might  have  inherited  that 
shadowy  hair  and  eyes  from  the  Moorish  and  sun-ripened  blood  of 
the  hidalgos  of  old  Spain.  A  few  pages  of  Time,  turned  backward, 
might  have  allied  the  dark,  fascinating  hue  that  crept  over  brow, 
neck,  shoulder  and  arm,  to  that  beautiful  paradox  of  American 
women,  who,  denied  all  lineage,  denied  a  country  or  a  name,  never 
cease  to  captivate.  A  careful  paradigm  of  her  ancestry  might  have 
revealed  this  startling  fact. 

Leaving  this  doubtful  point  to  the  exactness  of  American  Her- 
aldry, we  must  be  content  to  know  that  the  person  in  question  was 
none  other  than  the  belle  of  St.  Louis, —  the  flattered,  adored  and 
caressed  Miss  Honoria  Duel. 

A  young  Louisianian,  Lieutenant  Azucar,  son  of  a  cane-planter 
led  the  quintette.  He  was  upon  her  right  side  bearing  her  fan. 
Colonel  Selman,  an  obese,  gray-headed  Mobilian,  commanding  the 
"Cherokee  Artillery,"  moved  up  on  her  left,  smiling,  bowing  and 
toying  with  Miss  Honoria's  gold-enameled  vinaigrette.  Following 
en  traine,  was  Cadet  Call,  a  smooth-faced,  lithe  Missourian,  home  on 
a  furlough  from  military  studies.  He  was  elevated  to  the  office  of 
glove-holder,  for  he  bore  with  knightly  care  Miss  Duel's  white  kid 
amulet  glove.  Admiral  Dane  of  the  Navy,  a  corpulent,  florid-faced 
widower  of  sixty,  was  also  en  traine  as  a  gallant  page,  and  blowing 
like  a  stranded  porpoise,  convoyed  the  belle's  bouquet  as  stiffly 
upright  as  the  mast  of  the  "Warrior,"  his  own  flagship. 

Thus  they  caricoled  to  the  window,  coquetting  and  jesting. 
Hearingf  but  one   musical  voice,  and  observing  the  deep  interest 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  32  I 

Upon  the  faces  within,  they  paused  and  became  listeners  likewise. 

At  the  conclusion  of  Mrs.  Lambelle's  eulogism,  la  belle  Duel 
clapped  her  hands  and  cried, — 

"  Vive  New  York  !      Vive  New  York  !  " 

This  was  a  signal  for  her  suite;  they  failed  not  to  obey,  and  the 
demonstration  became  general.  La  belle  set  her  cherry-slippered 
foot  upon  the  low  sill,  declaring, — 

"  Aha !  I  see !  just  as  I  supposed.  Madame  Lambelle  charms 
all  hearts.  She  holds  tout  le  motide  entranced  by  the  magic  of  her 
azure  eyes." 

A  soft  flush  suffused  Madame  Lambelle's  cheeks,  as  she  re- 
plied,— 

'"'■  Mifa  un  eofnpliinento  al  quale  non  so  eke  rispondere  ;''^  and  with 
a  grace  which  rivited  all  eyes,  she  waved  her  hand  to  those  about 
her,  saying, — 

'■'•No  le c^edianio,''^  at  the  same  time  pleasantly  bowing  herself  out. 

Eev.  Fred  conducted  her  into  the  fragrant  air,  upon  the  broad, 
carpeted  floor  of  the  charming  piazza. 

"  Faccia7iio  un  giro  e?i  el giardino,^'  suggested  Madame  Lambelle. 

Rev.  Fred  had  once  known  Italian,  had  once  spoken  it  in  Rome 
and  other  Italian  cities  ;  so  after  some  little  hesitation,  in  search- 
ing memory,  he  replied, — 

"  Faro  no  chevorra  .^"  in  the  tone  of  homage  to  a  divinity. 

They  passed  out  beneath  the  twining  "  drap  d'or  "  climber,  under 
the  deep  blue  sky  and  unclouded  moon,  on  to  the  fountain.  They 
discussed  objects  and  places  of  interest  in  the  Old  World,  which 
were  perfectly  familiar  to  both,  and  forgot  the  unpleasant  American 
subject — Slavery.  Within  the  brilliant  ^^^^/i-  it  remained  a  fruit- 
ful subject  of  conversation. 

"  Miss  Duel,  my  dear,  we  have  had  a  delightful  narration  of  the 
burning  of  the  mail  at  Charleston.  Chancellor  Mowndes  has  con- 
ferred a  great  favor  in  relating  the  interesting  particulars.  Miss 
Honoria,  you  should  have  been  present.  You  have  lost  a  great 
pleasure,"  said  Madame  Terreceine. 

"  I  beg  pardon,  madame,"  interfered  the  chancellor  in  a  com- 
plimentary manner ;  "  but  Miss  Duel  herself  dispenses  higher 
pleasure  than  the  prosy  relation  of  a  stern  political  duty  could  pos- 
sibly confer." 


322  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  I  am  a  daughter  of  the  South,  chancellor,  and  am,  therefore, 
deeply  concerned  in  her  welfare.  I  have  a  great  curiosity  to  know 
something  of  the  contents  of  those  letters.  Were  any  of  them 
saved,  sir  ,  or  any  of  the  pamphlets  .-*  " 

"  Miss  Honoria  would  be  pleased  to  hear  them  read,"  com- 
manded Admiral  Dane,  still  holding  mast-upright  that  lady's 
bouquet. 

"  I  shall  be  most  honored  to  comply  with  Miss  Duel's  desire. 
There  are  two  or  three  still  in  my  possession."  He  bade  his  ser- 
vant bring  a  certain  package  of  papers.  It  was  found,  that  through 
mistake,  he  had  brought  but  one  from  the  mail-burning,  and  one 
other,  received  since.  The  latter,  he  opened  with  the  remark,  that 
"  this  specimen  alone,  would  show  the  audacity  and  stubbornness 
of  Northern  spirit ;  that  as  it  was  poetry,  he  considered  it  the  very 
topmost  shoot  of  their  general  sentiment." 

"  The  name  of  the  poet  ?"  asked  Cadet  Call. 

"  Whittier ;  a  more  insidious  incendiary  than  Garrison  himself. 
Garrison  professes  to  deal  with  facts,  which  he  hurls  with  artillery 
practice  among  the  horrified  masses,  while  Whittier  attempts  to 
rouse  those   intellects  which  are  moved  only  to  the  cadences  of 


song." 


The  letter  was  passed  to  Colonel  Selman  of  the  "  Cherokee  Ar- 
tillery," with  the  request  to  read.  The  colonel  rose,  and  after 
glancing  over  its  contents,  complied.  The  rich  bass  of  his  sono- 
rous voice  rang  out  the  flinty  words  against  the  iron  wills  of  his 
listeners.  The  latent  spark  flashed  along  every  line.  His  modula- 
tion was  perfect.  The  daring,  defiant  language  found  a  living  beauty 
in  its  magical  delivery.  The  poet  himself  could  not  have  desired 
a  more  impressive  rendering  of  the  majestic  grandeur  of  his 

"STANZAS   FOR  THE  TIMES." 

"  Is  this  the  land  our  father's  loved  ? 

The  freedom  which  they  toiled  to  win  ? 
Is  this  the  soil  whereon  they  moved  ? 

Are  these  the  graves  they  slumbered  in  ? 
Are  we  the  sons,  by  whom  are  borne 
The  mantles  which  the  dead  have  worn  ? 

And  shall  we  crouch  above  these  graves, 
With  craven  soul  and  fettered  lip  ? 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  323 

Yoke  in,  with  marked  and  branded  slaves, 

And  tremble  at  the  driver's  whip  ? 
Bend  to  the  earth  our  pliant  knees  ; 
And  speak,  but  as  our  masters  please  ? 

Shall  tongues  be  mute  when  deeds  are  wrought, 
Which  well  might  shame  extremest  hell  ? 

Shall  freeman  lock  the  indignant  thought  ? 
Shall  pity  cease  to  swell  ? 

Shall  honor  bleed  —  shall  truth  succumb  ? 

Shall /£•«  a.nd  press  and  sou^  be  dumb  ? 

No  !  by  each  spot  of  haunted  ground, 

Where  Freedom  weeps  her  children's  fall. 

By  Plymouth's  rock  and  Bunker's  mound, 

By  Griswold's  stained  and  shattered  wall, 

By  Warren's  ghost,  by  Langdon's  shade. 

By  all  the  memories  of  the  dead  ! 

By  all  above,  around,  below. 
Be  one  indignant  answer ;  NO  !  " 

He  read  the  last  two  lines  ending  with  its  triumphant  "  No  !  '* 
in  deep,  guttural  tones,  like  the  low  moanings  of  distant  thunder. 
During  the  reading,  silence  like  a  pall  fell  over  the  assembly. 

"There's  a  challenge  to  accept,"  suggested  Dentelle.  "That 
last  '  No  '  has  the  cannon's  boom." 

"Whittier  is  a  Quaker,"  said  another;  "a  man  of  peace." 

General  Terreceine's  face  grew  dark  and  austere. 

"  Quaker  or  no  Quaker,"  he  said,  "  whoever  flings  that  gauntlet 
in  our  faces  needs  wear  the  epaulets  of  war." 

"  Such  Northern  men  are  few,"  complacently  observed  Colonel 
Ashland.  The  Free  States,  as  a  whole,  are  most  pliant  and  sub- 
servient to  our  demands.  You  are  aware  that  the  resolutions  of 
the  South,  demanding  that  the  Non-slave-holding  States  shall  enact 
penal  laws  for  the  suppression  of  Abolition  Societies,  and  making 
it  also  a  penal  offense  to  print,  publish,  or  distribute  anti-slavery 
newspapers,  pamphlets  or  tracts,  has  been  officially  communicated 
to  the  governors  of  those  States.  Their  requirements  have  thus 
been  brought  before  the  notice  of  their  several  legislatures  with 
most  gratifying  effect." 

"True,"  replied  Colonel  Selman,  the  Mobilian,  "Governor  Marcy 
of  New  York,  and  the  Legislature,  have  declared  themselves  ready 


•224  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

to  make  almost  any  concessions  to  Southern  allies  and  friends." 

"  But  Massachusetts !  —  curse  her  !  — fosters  just  such  bandeleros 
as  this  Whittier.  And  her  cursed  Plymouth  Rock  is  already  half 
chipped  awav,  making  sling-stones  for  giants  !  "  growled  the  tall 
Major  Blood'ling  of  the  "  Missouri  Light  Guards." 

The  chancellor,  who  sat  thoughtfully  turning  over  the  papers  in 
his  hand,  looked  up  at  the  young  major  with  a  smile,  saying, — 

"  With  true  respect  for  your  Southern  enthusiasm,  let  me  assure 
you  that  Massachusetts,  with  all  her  blemishes,  is  still  an  ally  to 
the  South.  I  was  in  Boston  at  the  time  when  Edward  Everett,  the 
Governor  of  Massachusetts,  made  his  response  to  the  official  de- 
mands of  the  Southern  States,  to  which  my  friend.  Colonel  Ash- 
land, just  alluded.  Governor  Everett  said,  in  his  message,  'What- 
ever, by  direct  and  necessary  operation,  is  calculated  to  excite  an 
insurrection  among  the  slaves,  has  been  held  by  highly  respectable 
legal  authority  an  offense  against  the  peace  of  the  Commonwealth, 
which  may  be  prosecuted  as  a  misdemeanor  at  common  law,'  and 
also  '  that  the  patriotism  of  all  classes  must  be  invoked,  to  abstain 
from  a  discussion  which,  if  not  abandoned,  there  is  just  reason  to 
fear  will  prove  the  rock  on  which  the  Union  will  split.'  This  part 
of  the  message  was  referred  to  a  committee  of  five,  of  which  George 
Lunt,  a  senator  from  Newburyport,  was  chairman.  The  anti-slavery 
society  was  roused  to  its  own  detence  and  to  the  prevention  of  any 
action  against  "  Freedom  of  speech  and  the  press.  " 

Some  of  those  men  obtained  a  hearing  before  the  committee.  I 
was  present,  a  curious  and  unmolested  listener.  Samuel  J.  May 
spoke  first,  and  was  followed  by  Ellis  Gray  Loring.  He  dc?iied  the 
right  of  the  legislature  to  enact  penal  laws,  and  claimed  the  moral 
right  to  labor  for  the  extermination  of  slavery  or  any  other  crime. 
Garrison  followed,  in  an  onslaught  on  the  Union." 

"This  is  exceedingly  interesting,"  remarked  Miss  Duel;  "dear 
me  !  You  did  see  Garrison  !  that  blood-thirsty  instigator  of  insur- 
rections? " 

"  Very  interesting,"  repeated  all  the  ladies.  Do  describe  Garri- 
son to  us,  if  you  please.     Do  !  do  !  "  said  all. 

"  Ugh  !  I  shiver  at  the  thought  of  him,"  said  Miss  Duel.  "  He 
must  be  a  monster." 


WHITE   MAY,    ANDl  BLACK   JUNE.  325 

"Will  Miss  Duel  first  describe  the  great  abolition  leader,  from 
her  imagination?  "  laughingly  requested  Lieuteuant  Azucar. 

"  We  are  eager  listeners,"  joined  several  voices. 

"Miss  Duel  said  coquettishly,  "You  will  see  a  gnome  !  an  ogre  ! 
which  I  scarcely  dare,  myself,  portray.  My  ideas  are,  that. Garrison 
is  dwarfish  in  stature,  with  wiry,  unkempt  hair,  falling  over  a  low, 
malignant  brow  ;  that  his  features  are  half  hidden  by  a  long  fanati- 
cal beard ;  that  his  wild  eyes  glare,  without  one  Christian  expres- 
sion j  and  that  his  hands  and  feet,  ungainly  in  size  and  shape, 
complete  a  picture  of  ugliness,  from  the  sight  of  which  every  right- 
minded  person  must  turn  away  with  horror  and  disgust." 

General  merriment  succeeded,  when  Chancellor  Mowndes  came 
to  her  aid. 

"  Miss  Duel,  if  Garrison's  principles  and  acts  were  embodied, 
you  have  given  us  a  fine  drawing,  but  I  am  compelled  to  acknowl- 
edge, that  in  person  and  manners,  he  is  prepossessing ;  has  a  fine 
head  and  features,  and  an  agreeable,  impressive  voice.  Were  he 
in  Congress,  he  would  be  eclipsed  by  few." 

"Perhaps  your  audience  would  not  be  too  much  fatigued  to  listen 
to  some  of  his  oratory,"  suggested  Colonel  Ashland.  "  It  will 
show  that  our  determined  threats  of  revenge  and  death  to  those  of 
his  ilk  who  may  venture  upon  our  soil,  with  our  rewards  for  his  own 
head,   have  had  a  satisfactory  result." 

"  Let  us  hear,  chancellor.     Let  us  hear,"  said  the  host. 

"Aye !  let  us  hear,"  reiterated  Commodore  Dave. 

Chancellor  Mowndes  resumed ;  "  Mr.  Garrison  declared  that  the 
people  of  New  England  have  two  alternatives ;  either  to  consent  to 
be  gagged  by  '  Southern  task-masters,'  or  to  labor  fearlessly  on,  till 
slavery  should  be  blotted  from  the  land.  But  here  comes  the  point 
referred  to  by  my  friend,  the  colonel ;  I  give  it,  in  Garrison's  own 
words." 

"We  loudly  boast  of  our  free  country,  and  of  the  Union  of  these 
States  ;  yet  I  have  no  country  /  As  a  New-Englander  and  an  Aboli- 
tionist, I  am  excluded  by  a  bloody  proscription,  from  one-half  of 
the  national  territory,  and  so  is  every  man  who  is  known  to  regard 
slavery  with  abhorrence.  W^here  is  our  Union  ?  and  of  what  value 
is  it  to  me,  or  to  any  one  who  believes  that  liberty  is  the  inalienable 
right  of  every  man,  independent  of  the  color  of  his  skin,  or  the 


326  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

texture  of  his  hair  ?  JFe  cannot  enjo}^  the  privileges  of  the  Union. 
T/ie  right  of  free  aiid  safe  locomotion^  from  one  part  of  the  land  to  the 
other ^  is  de?iied  to  us  J  except  on  peril  of  our  lives  !  They  who  preach 
that  slave-holding  is  sin,  and  that  immediate  emancipation  is  the 
duty  of  every  master,  might  as  safely  leap  into  a  den  of  lions,  or  into 
2i  fery  furjiace,  as  to  go  into  the  Southern  States  !  " 

"Let  us  rejoice,"  said  Miss  Hanoria.  "Garrison  shall  never  set 
his  foot  upon  citr  soil." 

"  We  have  accom.plished  something,"  said  Dentelle,  "  when  we 
have  drawn  a  dead  line,  which  these  ruffians  dare  not  pass." 

"  What  was  the  termination  of  the  hearing,  chancellor,"  asked 
the  host.     "  Were  the  committee  convinced  by  the  abolitionists  ?  " 

"  Far  from  that,  sir.  George  Lunt,  the  chairman,  was  *  true 
blue.'  He  became  exasperated  at  the  assertions  of  one  Goodel, 
and  said  abruptly,  *  Stop,  sir !  Sit  down,  sir !  The  committee  will 
hear  none  of  this  ! '  He  was  proof  against  further  pleading  ;  said 
the  committee  had  heard  enough.  Thus  ingloriously  was  the  ex- 
cited audience  dispersed." 

"But  one  echo  of  Whittier's  "no!"  has  been  heard  from  all  the 
Northern  governors  to  whom  our  official  orders  of  repression  have 
been  sent,"  said  Colonel  Ashland. 

"Pray,  which  one  is  that? "  asked  an  excited  feminine  voice. 

"  Governor  Ritner  of  Pennsylvania.  He  commented  with 
Roman  firmness  and  severity  on  'the  base  bowing  of  the  knee  to 
the  dark  spirit  of  Slavery.'  He  counseled  the  State  '  never  to  yield 
up  the  right  of  Xhefree  discussion  of  any  evil  which  may  arise  in  the 
land,  or  any  part  of  it.' 

"Thaddeus  Stephens  w^as  chairman  of  the  committee  to  which 
our  Southern  resolutions  were  referred  :  of  course  his  report  denied 
our  right  to  claim  legislation  against  free  discussion,  and  it  affirmed 
*  if  the  claim  could  be  legitimate,  the  legislature  and  the  citizen 
would  be  reduced  to  a  vassalage  but  little  less  degrading  than  that 
of  the  slaves,  whose  condition  they  assert  the  right  to  discuss.' " 

'•'  The  only  remedy  for  Ritner  and  Stephens  is  '  Dupont's  best,'  " 
said  Cadet  Call ;  ''but  we  shall  bring  these  rebels  to  terms." 

"  It  is  only  a  matter  of  time,"  replied  Colonel  Ashland,  confi- 
dently.    The  chancellor  had  returned  to  the  papers  in  his  hand. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  327 

"  I  have  it,"  he  said  quietly,  while  a  curious  smile  played  over 
his  face. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  here  is  a  sworn  relic  of  the  late  Charles- 
ton Holocaust.  Captain  Bloodling,  shall  we  have  the  honor  of 
listening  to  you,  sir  ? "  at  the  same  time  extending  to  him  the 
letter. 

The  amiable  hostess  begged  him  to  summon  her  beautiful 
"  Ceres." 

"  Madame  Lambelle  is  so  thoroughly  interested  in  our  political 
situation  she  will  be  most  eager  to  hear." 

A  servant  was  dispatched  to  the  garden ;  she  soon  entered, 
still  leaning  on  the  arm  of  her  reverend  friend.  A  general  wel- 
coming smile  greeted  her. 

Bloodling  nerved  himself  to  the  task  of  a  finished  elocution,  that 
he  might  "  do  the  heroic  "  as  acceptably  as  his  predecessor  the 
colonel ;  but,  as  he  scanned  the  unfolded  letter  silently,  a  visible 
change  swept  his  proud  face.  Its  mail  clad  look  softened  into 
pity  first,  and  then  contempt.     He  began  to  read. 

'■'■Happy  Home,  July,  183  — 

My  Beloved  Friend, —  I  cannot  longer  delay  some  expression  of  the  un- 
fathomable sentiment  of  gratitude  which  daily  pervades  my  life  towards  you, 
the  one  to  whom  I  owe  all  I  have,  and  all  I  am.  Nothing  but  the  fear  of  en- 
dangering your  safety  has  set  the  oblivious  seal  of  silence  on  all  this  interven- 
ing time.  1  can  never,  for  one  moment,  fail  to  bless  you  for  your  efforts  in 
giving  me  that  freedom  which  has  grown  so  unspeakably  precious  with  the 
yearly  appreciation  of  its  blessings.  Ah  !  what  would  have  been  my  condition 
now  in  Charleston,  or  sold  perhaps,  for  other  shambles,  without  your  assistance 
in  escaping  from  that  terrible  bondage-  Perhaps  it  will  be  sufficient  for  you  to 
know  that  I  am  well,  happy,  and  being  educated.  This  letter  will  bear  witness, 
for  my  own  hand  pens  it. 

*'  Enclosed,  you  will  find  a  small  return  for  your  inestimable  and  dangerous 
service  to  me.  Accept  it,  with  my  daily  fervent  prayers  for  your  continued  life 
and  happiness.  Evening  Star." 

"  That  is  a  cunningly  devised  letter,"  remarked  Mrs.  Archibald. 

"  And  gives  no  clue  to  the  fugitive,"  observed  the  Rev.  Fred. 

"  Its  chirography  is  fine  ;  Major  Bloodling,  will  you  do  me  the 
pleasure  to  pass  it  to  the  ladies,  for  inspeccion  t "  said  the  chan- 
cellor. 

Miss  Duel  extended  her  gloved  hand  for  it,  ran  her  dark  eyes 
over  it,  and  pronounced  it, — 


328  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"Beautifully  written,  clear  and  delicate  as  copper-plate." 

Madame  Lambelle  declared  it  written  in  a  woman's  hand. 

Rev.  Fred  agreed  with  her  opinion. 

"  To  whom  was  it  addressed }  "  inquired  the  host. 

"To  Deiderich  Weintze,  a  German,  keeping  a  corner  shop  in  the 
city." 

"What  was  the  small  return,  mentioned  ?  " 

"  A  bank  check  for  a  thousand  dollars." 

"  Of  course  you  gave  the  Teuton  thief  his  w^ell-earned  remunera- 
tion?" questioned  the  general,  ironically. 

"  Not  precisely  in  money,  general.  We  handed  the  thousand 
dollars  over  to  the  *  Society  for  the  adva?icetnent of  C/iristia?iity  in 
South  Carolina' " 

"To  have  put  the  check  in  Weintze's  hand,  would  have  been 
paying  a  premiuni  for  a  crime  against  the  laws  of  the  State,  would 
it  not  ? "  inquired  Madame  Lambelle,  turning  her  startled  blue 
eyes  full  upon  the  face  of  her  admiring  companion. 

"  May  I  ask  what  are  the  laws  of  Carolina  concerning  it  ?  tor 
surelv,  there  must  be  some  penalty  attached  to  the  loss  of  slaves  in 
this  manner,  as  well  as  for  the  loss  of  any  other  valuable  property, 
I  should  suppose." 

"  Indeed,  my  dear  lady,  you  are  right,"  he  replied.  "  By  an  act 
of  1754,  all  and  every  person  who  shall  aid  a  slave  in  running 
away  or  departing  from  his  master's  or  employer's  service,  are  de- 
clared to  be  guilty  of  felony,  and  shall  suffer  death  as  felons,  with- 
out the  benefit  of  clergy.  The  inveigling  and  carrying  away  slaves, 
was  a  great  and  growing  evil  at  that  time." 

"  Deiderich  Weintze  was  punishable  under  that  act,"  remarked 
Colonel  Ashland. 

"  But  you  recollect,"  politely  interfered  the  chancellor,  "that  by 
an  act  of  182 1  'whoever  shall  harbor,  conceal  or  entertain  any  run- 
away or  fugitive  slave,  shall, be  fined  or  imprisoned  at  the  discre- 
tion of  the  court ;  not  exceeding  one  thousand  dollars  fine,  nor  one 
years  imprisonment ; '  and  as  justices  and  freeholders  who  try 
these  offenders,  can  exercise  such  discretion  as  they  think  fit. 
Deiderich  Weintze  was  sentenced  to  the  whipping-post,  to  one  thou- 
sand dollars  fine  of  his  own  property  and  imprisonment.     We  made 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  329 

an  example  of  him,  I  assure  you,  gentlemen.     I  was  in  Charleston 
at  the  time." 

"  It  was  quite  necessary,"  coolly  continued  the  chancellor. 

"  He  was  seized  at  his  store,  carried  to  the  public  whipping-post 
amid  an  angry  crowd,  stripped  as  to  his  back  and  shoulders,  and 
bound  to  it.  We  had  previously  sent  for  the  muscular  negro- 
whipper  of  the  work-house.  The  air  was  rife  with  the  same  signals 
of  approbation  as  at  the  burning  of  the  mail.  Cries  of  '  Kill  the 
Dutchman  ! '  drownded  every  other  sound." 

"  How  many  lashes  were  considered  sufficient  remuneration," 
bitterly  asked  General  Terreceine. 

"  The  lashes  were  not  counted,  they  were  discretionary ;  but  when 
he  fainted  he  was  put  in  a  cart  and  sent  to  the  work-house,  where 
he  has  since  been  indulged  with  the  pleasant  recreation  of  the 
tread-mill." 

"  Had  he  to  pay  his  fine  ?  " 

"  His  wife  sold  out  his  small  store,  and  met  the  fine,  I  believe." 

"You  came  out  gloriously!"  exclaimed  Colonel  Selman  of  the 
"  Rifles." 

"  Gloriously  !  gloriously  !  "  echoed  other  voices.  Major  Blood- 
ling  complimented  Charleston,  as  the  banner  city  of  the  South. 

Miss  Duel,  reclining  among  the  sofa  cushions  and  zephyrs 
wafted  from  her  fan,  in  the  hands  of  the  languishing  Lieutenant 
Azucar,  indolently  declared, — 

"  All  that  is  wanting  now,  is  to  search  out  and  drag  back  the 
runaway  to  lashes  and  double  tasks." 

Before  the  sentence  was  wafted  from  her  lips  by  the  lieutenant's 
fan-formed  zephyrs,  sudden  ejaculations  and  a  startled  clamor 
stirred  the  assembly.  Gentlemen  sprang  to  their  feet,  ladies 
clasjDcd  their  hands  looking  pitifully,  yet  remained  fixed  in  their 
seats,  as  if  stunned. 

The  lovely  Madam  Lambelle  lay  motionless  on  the  carpet,  at 
the  feet  of  her  Carolina  friend.  The  hostess  first  rushed  to  her 
side  with  tenderest  epithets  of  loving  endearment.  Rev.  Fred 
knelt  reverently,  and  raised  a  cold  hand  between  his  own. 

While  he  strove  in  vain  to  find  the  pulses  which  had  so  mysteri- 
ously fled,  the  little  Italian  maid  Cossetina,  who  had  been   quickly 


330  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

informed  by  the  servants,  came  wildly  in  and  threw  herself  down  by 
her  beloved  mistress.     She  called  to  her, — 

^^  Cara  Zaffiri !  Zaffiri !  Begli  occhi  !  che  avesti  !  She  drew  back 
the  ravishing  tresses  from  her  temples,  caressed  them,  moaning 
over  and  over,  "  Ca7'a  Zaffiri  !  a  chio?iii  sciolte  !  " 

Fred  murmured  low  as  if  to  himself, — 

''Bella  a  verdere !  Bella!'' 

Cossetina  was  frantic  with  grief.  She  clasped  her  hands,  raised 
her  eyes  to  the  ceiling,  passionately  exclaiming, — 

'' Bella  Zaffiri  I  sul pavi7nente ;  siil  pavi?7ie}ite  !  Stamala!'"  Ris- 
ing hastily  from  the  carpet,  she  extended  both  her  hands  to  General 
Terreceine.  and  pleadingly  cried,  '■'■  II letto  I  II  letto  P^  Then  the 
English  word  came  to  her  memory,  "Bed!  Bed!  Aiutatemi far 
do/'' 

The  general  advanced  and  lifted  the  still  figure  in  liis  strong 
arms.  ]\Iadame  Archibald  gathered  the  trailing  veil  of  flossy  hair, 
laying  it  upon  her  breast,  then  sadly  followed  the  strange  cortege  up 
the  stair-case,  to  the  quiet  of  a  distant  chamber. 

There  had  been  music  and  feasting  during:  the  eveninGf,  which 
had  been  partaken  with  convivial  zest  by  those  well  trained  in  the 
art  of  enjoyment.  The  dancing-hall,  a  handsome  appurtenance  to 
the  Terreceine  mansion,  had  been  filled  with  the  gay,  changing 
throng.  Its  frescos,  flowers,  brilliant  lights  and  entrancing  strains, 
had  in  time  drawn  all  within  its  eddying  circles  of  pleasure,  and 
these  had  turned  again  to  the  cool  gardens  and  stately  salons  for 
the  agreeable  interchange  of  cultured  thought.  Authors  and  their 
works,  artists  and  their  productions  were  discussed  as  familiarly  as 
those  only  can  do  whose  time  and  means  are  unlimited.  Pleasant 
memories  and  incidents  of  travel  were  compared;  many  a  group 
sat  again  for  a  passing  hour  beneath  the  grandeur  of  the  Alps, — 
in  the  shadow  of  ancient  cathedrals,  or  in  fancy  trod  again  the  im- 
perial palaces  of  royalty. 

It  was  the  custom  at  every  concourse,  public  or  private,  at  the 
evening  party,  the  crowded  ball,  at  hilarious  dinners,  and  even  at 
the  fashionable  call,  throughout  the  South,  to  discuss  one  unflag- 
ging topic  of  discourse.  This  was  slavery,  its  enemies  and  sup- 
porters. On  this  festive  occasion,  when  strangers  from  other 
Southern  States  were  present,  this  home  subject  was  presented  with 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK  JUNE.  33 1 

deeper  interest ;  and  because  the  sentiment  of  the  group  of  conver- 
sationists is  relevant  to  our  purpose,  their  ideas  have  been  given  to 
the  reader,  to  the  exclusion  of  other  subjects. 

But  for  the  occurrence  of  this  last  touching  event,  Madame 
Lambelle's  calamity,  the  evening's  attractions  would  have  held 
fascinations  for  hours  longer.  But  the  strange  malady  which  had 
stricken  down  the  beautiful  stranger,  cast  a  gloom  over  the  spirits 
of  every  one  present. 

Thought  and  conversation  changed  to  her  personal  beauty,  her 
high-bred  ease  of  manner,  her  sprightliness  of  humor,  the  taste  and 
elegance  of  her  attire,  the  number  and  brilliancy  of  her  diamonds, 
and  above  all,  to  the  interest  displayed  in  whatever  pertained  to 
the  South. 

Disquiet  marked  the  usually  calm  faces  of  the  servants  as  they 
waited  for  some  order,  whereby  they  might  do  loving  service  for 
the  "  dear  lady,"  in  return  for  the  soft  words  and  condescending 
smiles  with  which  she  greeted  them. 

Fred  Warham  sat  silently  apart,  as  if  he  had  seen  a  divine  trans- 
figuration. 

After  a  half-hour's  suspense,  a  gray-haired  physician,  holding  the 
respect  and  confidence  of  the  circle,  entered  the  salons  from  the 
lady's  chamber.  A  volley  of  tender  inquiries  assailed  him,  to  which 
he  gave  the  pleasant  information,  that  he  apprehended  no  immedi- 
diate  danger ;  his  patient  had  opened  her  "  bluest  of  blue  eyes,  as 
fresh  as  spring  violets."  She  would  fully  recover  from  the  effects 
of  the  swoon,  in  two  or  three  days,  "  to  the  joy  of  us  all,"  he  added, 
with  a  bow  and-benignant  smile  signifying  the  dismissal  of  anxiety. 
He  declared  there  was  never  such  another  "  Rome  in  America  "  as 
that  chamber.  "  Why,"  said  he,  "  the  little  Cossetina  fills  the  room 
with  chattering  Italian.  The  air  is  heavy  with  the  soft  language,  as 
her  churches  are  of  incense  ;  yet  with  all  her  censor-swing  of  her 
native  tongue,  the  only  distinguishable  aroma  is  '  Zaffiri !  Zaffiri ! 
Zaffiri  caressed,  Zaffiri  moaned,  Zaffiri  wept,  and  Zaffiri  adored.' " 

A  unversal  smile  gladdened  the  dull  salons. 

"Zaffiri  is  a  singular  name,"  remarked  one. 

"  Zaffiri  is  Italian  for  sapphires.  It  must  signify  her  blue  eyes," 
replied  Fred  Warham.  "  She  is  American  born,  however  j  a  na- 
tive New-Yorker,  of   one  of    those  opulent  and   travelled   families, 


332  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

which  form  so  pleasant  a  counterpart  to  our  chivalry  and  blooded 
descent." 

"  Ah,  yes,"  said  Miss  Duel ;  "  her  husband  brought  the  proper 
letters  of  introduction  from  New  York.  You  know  we  do  not 
receive  into  our  social  regards  any  strangers  of  doubtful  prece- 
dent." 

"  Her  husband  dotes  upon  her,"  said  the  hostess,  "  and  would 
not  trust  her  health  to  the  climatic  changes  of  Texas,  at  present. 
He  is  equally  interested  with  us  Southerners,  in  that  country,  but 
will  not  take  Zaffiri  there  until  winter." 

"A  splendid  fellow  he  is,  too,"  said  the  general.  "  Nobility  is 
stamped  upon  his  face.  I  made  his  acquaintance  on  his  way  out 
here." 

Carriages  came  one  after  another  to  the  piazza,  and  rolled 
away,  leaving  love's  tender  regrets  and  regards  for  the  invalid. 

General  Terreceine  invited  a  few  of  the  choice  spirits  of  St. 
Louis  to  tarry  in  the  library  for  a  short  conference  with  the  Caro- 
lina friends. 

Between  the  grand  dining  salo?i  and  library,  white-gloved  slaves 
glided  about,  bearing  those  refreshments  which  the  company  de- 
manded. From  the  costly  buffet,  glittering  with  the  cut  glass  para- 
phernalia of  fashionable  wine-bibbers,  were  brought  on  trays  of 
solid  silver,  decanters  filled  with  the  blood-red,  the  amber,  and  the 
purple  juices  of  rare  vintages. 

The  sliding  doors  of  the  salons  were  closed  around  the  conclave, 
and  the  polished  mail  of  gallantry  worn  in  the  presence  of  ladies 
was  rapidly  doffed. 

Belles,  horses,  women  and  hounds  were  brought  upon  the  tapis 
together.  Various  degrees  of  eulogism,  sarcasm  or  contempt, 
were  bestowed  upon  the  mingled  array,  and  they  were  banished 
from  inspection  amid  toasts,  resolves,  and  responses  drank  in  swift 
succession. 

Tongues  grew  voluble  and  reckless.  Short  patriotic  speeches 
were  indulged  in,  flaming  with  vituperation  and  lurking  revenge. 

Cadet  Call  was  of  the  opinion  that  Congress  had  the  power,  and 
therefore  should  control  the  diabolical  Northern  agitation.  The 
Northern  Whig  vote  of  that  body  assimilated  so  generally  with  the 
Southern  Democrats,  that  they  could  easily  carry  any  resolution. 


WHITE   MAY,   AND      BLACK   JUNE.  333 

Northern  States  should  be  forced  to  make  penal  enactments  for 
their  agitators.  In  the  very /aces  of  these  public  disturbers,  they 
should  enact  the  gibbet  and  the  gallows. ^^ 

Colonel  Ashland  advised  to  declare  to  the  North,  if  the  question 
of  slavery  be  further  discussed  in  any  shape,  at  any  time,  at  any 
place,  the  Slave  States  would  secede  from  the  Union ;  they  would 
show  the  world  that  the  old  saying, —  "  The  pen  is  mightier  than 
the  sword,"  is  reversed,  and  that  the  South  would  abide  only  by  the 
decision  of  the  latter. 

General  Terreceine  cried  out  hotly, — 

"  Drink,  gentlemen,  drink  !  to  the  sentiment.  We  will  muzzle 
their  foul,  incendiary  mouths !  We  will  make  bonfires  of  their 
moral  convictions  !  We  will  grind  their  logic  to  powder  beneath  the 
upper  and  the  nether  millstones  of  our  adamantine  will.  And  the 
Constitution !  Ah,  we  will  hurl  their  printing  presses  to  the  bottom 
of  their  rivers,  a-la  James  G.  Birney's,  in  the  Ohio." 

Judge  Pitts,  a  Missourian,  roused  to  heroic  remembrances  by 
the  name  of  "Birney,"  held  up  his  glass. 

"  To  Cincinnati,  the  friendly  watch-tower  midway  along  the 
moat  of  our  Northern  border." 

A  long  hip  —  hip — hurrah  !  responded,  and  a  drink  all  round. 

Dentelle  was  complimentary.  "  I  give  you,  my  friends,  ]\Iizzouri, 
yet  in  her  '  teens,'  but  the  fair  young  mother  of  Texas,  after  the 
mother,  Texas  herself,  the  eagle's  nest,  hatching  forty-three  IMassa- 
chusetts-ess;"  his  brandied  tongue  slipping  on  the  smooth  termina- 
tion. 

Angry  cries  of  '■^  No  I  No  I  No!  By  Heaven,  no  P^  accom- 
panied by  a  heavy  blow  upon  the  table,  and  accidents  among  the 
cut-glass,  interrupted  the  toaster. 

Dentelle,  intent  upon  his  idea,  and  perceiving  the  rock  on  which 
he  had  split,  reiterated, — 

'•  Gentle'em,  Texas  !  The  house  of  the  free  and  the  land  of  the 
brave.  Beg  pardons-es.  Cut  her  up — through — Dainme  I  cut  her 
up  I  into  eighty-six  senator-r-r-ors  from  elsewhere,  and  p'serve  bal- 
anc-ce  of  power." 

More  accidents. 

The  tall,  lithe  figure  of  Lieutenant  Bloodling  for  a  few  moments 
overlooked  the  table  and  its  surroundings.     His  right  hand  ran 


334  WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

through  his  disordered  flaxen  hair,  and  then  slowly  drew  forth  to 
the  light  of  the  chandelier  a  gleaming  knife.  He  was  still  silent, 
but  busied  himself  in  so  turning  the  blade,  that  its  white,  reflected 
light  danced  here  and  there  on  the  walls  and  book-cases  ;  and  so 
that  all  could  read  the  sanguinary  words,  death  to  abolition 
etched  darkly  upon  its  surface. 

Another  "  hip  —  hie  —  hip  —  hurrah !  "  welcomed  its  ghastly 
motto. 

Bloodling  flourished  the  blade,  wildly  repeating  with  furious 
voice, — 

"  By  Calhoun's  soul,  by  Bowie's  blade, 
By  Southern  blood  of  bluest  grade, 
By  all  above,  around  below. 
Be  our  indignant  answer  ;  so  !  " 

accompanying  the  last  syllable  by  a  portentous  plunge  of  the  dan- 
gerous steel  downward. 

"Our  Southern  Whittier,"  exclaimed  a  round  of  voices,  the  re- 
ward to  his  poetical  effort. 

Weapons  of  various  shapes  and  powers  slid  out  of  their  sheaths, 
and  insanely  brandished  lightnings  under  the  trembling  prisms  of 
the  chandelier. 

Bloodling's  new  style  of  knife  was  passed  about,  and  gave  gen- 
eral satisfaction.  Its  British  manufacture,  its  excellent  temper,  its 
studied  proportions,  its  fine,  razor-like  edge,  and  especially,  its 
deep,  threatning  words  "death  to  abolition,"  along  its  blade, 
were  each  in  turn  subjects  of  comment  and  praise. 

The  gra3'-haired  doctor  stepped  lightly  in  from  the  piazza,  took 
the  weapon  in  his  soft  hands,  read  the  inscription,  and  pronounced 
it,  "  the  greatest  moral  invention  of  the  age."  Returning  it  to 
Bloodling,  he  said, — 

"  Make  good  use  of  it,  my  young  friend.  In  the  sacred  words  of 
the  Evangelist  'the  fields  are  already  white  to  the  harvest'  " 

"  Doctor,  how  is  your  lovely  patient,  Madame  Lambelle  .'*  "  A 
general  and  subdued  attention  awaited  his  reply. 

"  I  congratulate  you,  gentlemen,  upon  the  success  of  your   social 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  335 

festivities  ;  but  I  came  to  say,  with  deep  regret  on  my  part,  and  I 
am  sure  with  sorrow  on  yours,  that  the  lady  has  just  experienced  a 
sHght  spasm,  whicli  is  unfavorable.  I  therefore  suggest  perfect, 
unbroken  quiet  as  a  sovereign  remedy.  Her  delicate  nervous  sys- 
tem will  not  endure  the  least  shock." 

The  decision  to  adjourn  was  immediate  and  unanimous. 

Bloodling  offered  in  a  parting  bumper,  "  the  health  of  the  lovely 
Zaffiji."  They  drank  it  standing,  in  the  sympathy  of  silence,  each 
man's  hand  upon  his  heart. 

The  last  carriage  rolled  out  under  the  ivy  arch.  General  Terre- 
ceine  said  to  his  Carolina  guests, — 

''  We  are  to  have  a  high  old  day  to-morrow.  I  had  forgotten  to 
mention  it.  The  officers  are  in  pursuit  of  two  fellows  who  are  sus- 
pected of  tampering  with  our  slaves,  and  running  them  off.  They 
have  fled  to  Alton,  and  if  they  are  caught,  I  invite  you  to  witness 
their  trial.     Damn  them  !     Good-night." 


CHAPTER  XVH. 

"  T  TOW  delightful  is  the  morning,"  said  Fanny  to  her  mother,  as 

J~i  she  came  down  from  her  chamber. 

"  And  you  are  as  rosy  as  the  morning,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  don't 
think  there  is  a  fresher  looking  girl  in  Alderbank."  Passing  to  the 
open  window  of  the  dining-room,  Fanny  threw  her  usual  look  of  rap- 
ture over  the  bright  sky,  the  many  clouds,  the  mountains,  the  white 
serpentine  wreath  of  fog,  along  the  base  of  the  wooded  hills,  mark- 
ing the  course  of  the  river,  and  over  all  with  what  her  childhood 
was  familiar.  Her  eyes  were  aglow  with  the  happiness  of  the  deli- 
cious reverie. 

The  voice  of  her  mother,  as  often  before,  roused  her. 

"  Come,  Fanny  dear,  there  is  work  to  be  done  ;  the  clock  has  a 
story  te  tell  as  well  as  the  landscape." 

"  That  clock  is  my  task-master ;  but  come  here,  mother.  Do  you 
observe  that  bunch  of  asparagus  ?  It  is  heavy  with  the  glorified 
spirits  of  precious  stones.     Red,  blue,  purple,  yellow   and  green, 


236  WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

sparkle  from  every  spray.  Aladdin's  cave  had  not  more  splendid 
jewels  than  these." 

*'The  whole  universe  is  an  Aladdin's  cave  to  you,  Fannie ;  come, 
take  those  rolls  from  the  oven,  fill  the  coffee  urn  and  arrange  the 
chairs  at  table.  Richard  has  been  reading  two  hours.  This  will 
be  a  busy  day,  for  you  know  you  have  preparations  to  make  for  to- 
morrow, the  Sabbath.  As  you  have  been  propounded  for  admission 
to  the  church,  and  no  one  has  made  objection  to  your  being  re- 
ceived, I  suppose  you  will  take  the  vows  of  Cloudspire  church  upon 
you  to-morrow.  I  cannot  think  you  understand  the  course  you 
insist  upon  taking,  and  I  wish,  Fanny,  you  could  have  consented  to 
wait  till  you  are  older." 

The  countenance  and  tone  of  Mrs.  Beame  was  grave  and  remon- 

strative, 

"  1  am  sorry  to  meet  your  disfavor,  dear  mother,  but  I  am 
eighteen  ;  too  old  to  disobey  the  commands  of  our  Savior,  and  my 
own  conscience.  In  matters  between  the  soul  and  its  Creator,  each 
one  must  be  accountable  for  one's  self." 

"  Then,  I  think,  Fanny,  that  Cloudspire  church  has  a  great  weight 
of  accountability  resting  upon  it,  which  the  simple  act  of  eating 
bread  and  drinking  wine  will  not  lighten." 

Do  you  think,  my  child,  that  the  sacraments  they  have  partaken, 
since  Richard  and  their  outrage  upon  him,  was  an  outrage  upon 
millions  of  oppressed  in  our  land  ;  I  say,  do  you  think  those  sacra- 
ments have  purified  the  church  of  this  offense  in  the  sight  of  that 
Savior  they  profess  to  follow  ?  " 

"Not  that  act  alone  ;  but,  mother,  they  were  mistaken  then,  and 
we  should  suppose  that  every  heart  can  be  softened  by  repentance. 
They  have  forgiven  me  for  my  fiery  denunciation  of  their  faith  in 
the  pulpit  vvhere   I   had  no  right  to  go,  and  overlooked  my  hasty 

4« 


ansfer  " 


"  Fanny,  the  church  will  overlook  anything,  any  sin,  any  crime, 
to  obtain  a  new  member  ;  however,  it  is  too  late  to  warn  you  now. 
You  persist  in  following  "  conscience  ;"  your  conscience  is  noth- 
ing more  than  an  obedience  to  the  persuasions  of  the  new  minister, 
of' Deacon  Steele  and  Mary.  But  let  us  say  no  more.  We  must 
hasten  to  breakfast." 

"  Yes,  mother,  we  have  to  go  down  the  river  to  Susan's  house 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  337 

to-day,  and  to  cook  up  something  to  carry  her  and  the  children,  for 
she  has  not  heard  from  Henry  for  a  long  time." 

"  You  have  also  to  call  upon  the  teacher,  to  smooth  away  the 
troubles  that  a  wicked  prejudice  casts  in  the  way  of  Susan's  little 
ones.     Have  you  not,  my  dear  .-*  " 

Richard  heard  the  question  as  he  was  seating  himself  at  table, 
and  asked  another, — 

"  How  is  this  ?     In  the  common  school  ?     What  trouble  ?  " 

*•'  You  see,  my  son,  it  is  simply  the  scorn  of  color :  for  Henry 
Hughes  children  are  as  quick  to  learn  as  any  pupils  in  school. 
Fanny  had  them  well  advanced  when  they  entered.  They  are 
always  tidily  dressed,  but  some  of  the  white  children  daily  torment 
them  to  crying  ;  they  take  away  their  dinners,  tear  their  clothes, 
hide  their  books,  and  taunt  them  with  abusive  names." 

"The  old  story,"  he  replied.  "  So,  Fanny,  you  propose  to  take 
the  part  of  protector  of  the  down-trodden  .?  " 

"Yes,  Richard.  I  cannot,  by  silence,  'pass  by  on  the  other  side.* 
I  may  give  offense,  however." 

"That  does  not  lessen  your  obligation.  Whoever  passes  by  the 
abuses  of  that  school,  without  rebuking  its  prejudice  and  the  fruits 
of  it,  is  partaker  of  the  very  deeds  ;  and  whoever  neglects  to  inform 
himself  that  such  deeds  are  enacted  there,  is  also  culpable." 

"  I  was  resolved ;  but,  Richard,  you  give  me  new  courage." 

"  Fanny,  scatter  truth  always.  Never  a  seed  perishes.  It  may 
fall  upon  dry  or  rocky  soil,  but  time  and  genial  rains  will  cause  it 
to  bud  and  blossom.  The  whole  district  and  the  whole  town  even, 
may,  in  time,  feel  the  influence  of  your  w^ords  in  behalf  of  the  op- 
pressed." 

Fanny  and  her  mother  called  at  the  schoolhouse  about  four 
o'clock,  to  take  the  children  with  them  on  their  walk  to  Susie's. 
The  path  followed  the  river-bank;  mossy,  leafy,  cool,  and  mottled 
with  sunny  spots.  The  children  each  held  a  hand  of  Fanny's. 
What  a  tide  of  joy  and  childish  trust  poured  through  her  tender 
clasp  into  their  little  brown  hands  empty  of  aught  else ;  empty  of 
worldly  goods,  worldly  honor,  but  most  empty  of  human  love. 
They  ran  away  for  blackberries  and  came  back  ;  they  stopped  on 
the  shore  to  pick  up  the  white  pebbles  for  Fanny  ;  they  drew  both 
ladies  into  a  shady  nook  of  hemlock  to  show  a  bird's  nest   with  the 


338  WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

blue  eggs  ;  they  plunged  into  the  dry  leaves  like  partridges,  after 
red  berries. 

A  flat  rock  projected  into  the  river  under  a  broad  chestnut.  Mrs. 
Beame  proposed  resting,  and  all  seated  themselves. 

"  Now,  said  Fanny,  "  let  us  change  works.  I  will  peep  into 
your  satchels,  and  you  shall  peep  into  our  pockets." 

Amid  the  children's  feasting  from  their  pockets,  Fanny  exam- 
ined progress  in  lessons  ;  turning  over  the  books,  she  found  many 
leaves  had  been  roughly  torn  out. 

"  Addie,  how  came  this  ?  "  she  said. 

Addie  looked  troubled,  and  was  silent. 

"  Addie,  dear,  how  was  it  ?  " 

Large  tears  filled  the  child's  eyes. 

"  I'm  afraid,  Miss  Fanny." 

"  Oh,  no !  you  should  not  fear  me.  Tell  Fanny  all.  Nothing 
shall  harm  you ; "  and  she  drew  the  timid  face  to  hers. 

"  Miss  Fanny,  won't  you  tell?" 

"  Not  to  harm  you,  darling ;  tell  Fanny  all." 

She  drew  Fanny's  bonnet  down  to  hers  and  whispered, — 

"  Do  you  know  that  big  boy  they  call  "  Bully,"  the  tavern- 
keeper's  boy?" 

"  Yes,  Addie." 

"  Well,  when  I  spell  right  and  get  up  to  the  head  in  his  class, 
he  tears  out  the  leaf  that's  got  the  word  on  it,  that  I  spell  and  get 
above  him.  He  says  if  I  tell,  he'll  come  down  in  these  woods  and 
drown'd  us  when  nobody  knows  it.  He  says  ftiggers  shan't  go  up 
to  the  head  of  white  folk's'  classes.     Don't  you  tell.  Miss  Fanny." 

Willie  saw  a  butterfly,  jumped  from  the  rock  and  vainly  pursued 
it  up  the  mossy  path.  Returning  hat  in  hand,  Mrs.  Beame  per- 
ceived a  large,  dark  bruise  on  his  forhead. 

"O  child  !  "  she  asked,  "  what  is  the  matter  with  your  head  ?" 

"  The  boys  pushed  me  off  the  steps,  on  a  stone,  and  it  bleeded." 

"  What  did  they  say  then  ?  "  she  calmly  asked,  stroking  the  shiny 
waves  of  his  soft  black  hair. 

"They  laughed,  and  made  fun  of  me,  and  pushed  me  again." 

"  But,  you  know,  Willie,  some  of  the  girls  brought  water  to  wash 
it,"  said  Addie,  kindly. 

They  went  on  to  the  little  cabin  among  the  green  shimmer  of 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  ^^g 

tall  trees.  The  cove  embosomed  in  high  shores,  reflected  their 
picturesque  rocks  and  trees  like  a  mirror.  The  homely  hut,  or 
cabin,  with  its  open  door  and  window,  saw  itself  in  the  water,  and 
the  green  sloping  turf  of  the  other,  from  Susie's  door,  kissed  the 
other  in  the  water.  A  snowy  washing  hung  and  waved  on  Susie's 
lines  ;  they  fluttered  also  on  the  lines  of  the  river.  Visitors  stood 
at  Susie's  doorstep.  Ladies  and  children  stopped  by  the  doorsteps 
in  the  picture,  also. 

"You  have  another  settlement  near  to  cheer  your  solitude," 
said  Fanny,  pointing  to  the  cove  ;  "  are  they  agreeable  neighbors  ?  " 

"Entirely  so,"  said  Susan.  "There  is  no  strife  between  us  — 
the  families  in  the  two  cabins  are  alike,  humble  and  poor." 

"  Come  in,  both  of  you.  No,  stay  ;  the  room  is  too  warm.  I  will 
bring  seats  under  the   trees.     I'm  so  glad  you   are  come." 

She  sprang  up  the  wooden  steps  and  brought  out  a  letter,  hold- 
ing it  up  gaylv  for  Fanny  to  read  the  inscription. 

"  Now  we'll  hear  from  papa,  children.  Will  you  read  it,  Fanny? 
I  got  it  yesterday,  and  was  to  take  it  to  you  last  night,  but  for  the 
shower." 

Fanny  broke  the  seal.  In  unfolding  the  awkward  half  sheet  of 
fool's  cap,  something  fell  upon  the  grass ;  swift  as  a  mouse, 
Susan's  hand  glided  after  it,  and  caught  it  up. 

"  Just  like  him.  Look  Mrs.  Beame.  Look,  Fanny.  How  good 
Henry  is.  I  never  had  so  much  money  before."  Susan  turned 
the  small  package  this  way  and  that,  as  if  she  read  affection  in  the 
folding  of  the  bank  notes,  and  was  gratifyihg  her  hungry  heart 
with  the  love  of  her  husband,  first. 

"  Count  your  treasure,  dear,"  suggested  Mrs.  Beame. 

"  I  will  ask  you  to  count  it  for  me.  I  have  never  done  such  a 
thing ;  for,  as  I  said,  never  so  much  money  was  in  this  house, 
before." 

Mrs.  Beame  ran  it  over. 

"Twenty-five  dollars,  Susan;  it  will  make  you  quite  comfortable 
if  care  is  taken  in  expending  it.  Better  put  it  in  a  safe  place  till 
you  need  it.     Now,  Fanny,  read  the  letter  to  Susan." 

The  writing  was  crude,  and  the  sentences  were  ungrammatical. 
A  rough  hand  had  penned  it  from  dictation,  and  it  was  mailed  in 
New  York. 


340  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Fanny  read, — 

''My  Dear  Wife  and  Children, —  Thank  God,  that  with  all  our  hard  lot, 
this  comfort  and  privilege  of  writing  is  left  us.  It  is  a  long  time  since  I  parted 
from  you  at  our  poor  door  by  the  river.  I  have  been  in  great  cities,  have  seen 
strange  things.  I  have  seen  marble  houses,  grand  churches,  and  huts  as  poor 
as  ours.  I  have  come  to  believe  that  the  poor  are  in  every  corner  of  the  land. 
I  have  sailed  on  the  ocean,  and  1  have  seen  waves  that  would  toss  our  house 
about,  like  an  egg-shell. 

"  I  have  turned  sailor.  My  last  voyages  have  been  to  Havanna.  That  is  a 
very  hot  country.  Oranges  and  lemons  grow  there.  I  never  forget  you.  You 
are  by  me  night  and  day.  The  world  is  hard  on  me  everywhere,  but  I  have 
managed  to  save  this  money  for  you  and  the  children.  I  never  could  have 
given  you  so  much  money  if  I  had  staid  at  Aldcrbank.  Buy  something  to  eat 
and  to  wear  through  the  cold  winter  coming.  I  must  try  to  help  you  buy  a 
store  by  that  time.  Try  to  have  the  children  go  to  school,  and  help  them  to' put 
up  with  the  treatment  I  know  they  will  get  there.  I  believe  schooling  will  help 
them  to  get  along  better  than  you  and  I  do.  They  will  know  then  who  is  cheat- 
ing them  out  of  their  wages  and  who  is  robbing  them  at  the  stores. 

"  I  could  write  all  night,  but  I  shall  tire  this  shipmate  who  writes  for  me.  In 
any  trouble  of  yours  or  the  children,  get  the  advice  of  Mrs,  I3eame  and  Fanny. 
God  bless  that  family.  Give  them  my  best  respects.  I  shall  be  in  port  two 
weeks.  Get  a  letter  written,  and  direct  care  of  A.  Z.  Rov.  schooner  '  Petrel ; ' 
Box  — 

"Your  faitthfnl  husband  till  death, 

"Henry  Huges." 

"  P.  S.     The  captain  is  kind  and  will  not  see  his  men  abused." 

*'0h  !  thank  you,  Fann}^"  said  Susan  ;  "  how  glad  I  am  to  hear 
from  Henry;  but  he  is  so  far  away."  Her  face  saddened.  "The 
ocean  is  so  dangerous.  He  promised  to  come  back  in  the  spring. 
O,  Mrs.  Beame  !  hfe  is  such  a  hard  struggle  with  everybody  against 
you." 

"  Do  not  look  upon  the  dark  side,"  said  Mrs.  Beame.  "  The 
same  God  rules  the  sea,  as  rules  the  land.  Keep  up  a  good  heart ; 
out  of  the  money,  you  shall  have  more  comfort  than  you  dreamed 
of  —  some  clothing  new  and  strong— that  will  not  need  to  be 
patched  at  every  washing,  when  you  are  too  tired  to  hold  a  needle ; 
and  you  shall  have  food  and  warmth." 

"And  the  children  are  already  at  school,"  added  Fanny. 

"  But  for  Henry's  letter,  I  believe  they  would  not  be  at  school 
to-morrow.  I  might  as  well  confess  the  truth,  I  was  angered.  1 
cannot  take  insults  all  my  life.  No,  I  might  bitterly  endure  them 
myself,  but  to  know  that  my  innocent  children  are  buffeted  at  every 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  34I 

Step  forward,  is  tantalizing  beyond  degree.  Addie  comes  home 
and  repeats  language  to  me,  which  none  but  savages  would  speak 
to  her,  much  less  Christian  children.  Her  spelling-book,  which  I 
have  taught  the  children  to  take  such  care  of,  has  leaf  after  leaf 
torn  out  of  it.  Willie  is  covered  with  bruises  ;  besides,  I  am  obliged 
to  go  with  them  along  the  river  path  mornings,  to  the  foot  of  the 
hill,  and  meet  them  there  in  the  afternoon.  Addie  says  she  is 
afraid.  I'm  sure  I  don't  why  ;  whether  her  head  is  full  of  ghosts  or 
what  it  is." 

"Never  mind  it,  Susan  ;  all  these  vexations  belong  to  the  times 
—  but  the  times  will  change  Truth  advances.  By  and  by,  all 
these  harrowing  deeds  will  be  buried  in  the  past.  The  education 
of  your  children  is  for  a  living  future.  With  books,  study  and  the 
nurturing  care  of  us  all,  Willie  and  Addie  may  rise  to  positions  of 
happiness  and  honor.  They  may  exchange  this  pleasant  nest 
among  the  trees  for  ceiled  houses  amongst  gardens  and  vines, 
and  —  " 

Susan  broke  into  a  nervous,  incredulous  laugh,  in  which  both 
visitors  gleefully  united.  The  adjoining  woods  took  up  the  half 
joyful,  half  derisive  laughter,  till  the  green  dephts  were  alive  with 
its  echoing  vollies. 

Susie's  unbelief  looked  out  through  the  sunshine  and  rain  of  her 
eyes. 

"  O  Mrs.  Beame !  do  not,  I  beg  you,  speak  to  me  of  impossibili- 
ties. What  am  I,  to  plant  one  bright  hope  in  my  heart,  dark  as 
ignorance  can  make  it.  The  only  light  in  it  —  the  pitch  flare  of  our 
wretched  experience.  What  am  I,  Fanny.?  Compare  yourself 
with  me.  What  am  I  but  a  washing-machine,  that  thinks,  thinks, 
how  or  what?  thoughts  no  wider  than  this  cove,  nor  higher  than 
these  trees,  nor  deeper  than  the  hollow  of  my  potato  hills,  there; 
and  my  children  — " 

In  a  twinkling,  as  if  she  heard  the  cry  of  one  drovvming,  Fanny 
tossed  her  bundle  on  the  sward,  and  kneeling  by  the  low  seat  of 
Susie,  playfully  placed  one  hand  on  her  grieving  mouth,  and 
caressed  her  wavy  hair  with  the  other. 

"Hush!  Susie,  hush!  Don't  think  of  it.  Have  a  little  hope. 
Henry,  my  mother  and  I,  have  paid  you  a  visit  in  a  most  opportune 
time.     Let  us  all  fight  together  the  good  fight  of  faith." 


342  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

**  Faith  for  what,  Fanny,  and  in  what?  " 

"Faith  for  the  future,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Beame  ;  "for  the  future 
in  this  world  too,  I  mean.  Persist  in  sending;  these  children  to  the 
vilhige  school.  Do  your  duty  to  them.  We  will  help  you.  Some 
wrongs  have  been  corrected  to-day."  Mrs.  Beame  sent  Willie  and 
Addie  out  to  pick  a  cup  of  berries,  and  resumed, — 

"Fanny  has  had  a  conversation  with  the  teacher  to-day,  about 
the  abuses  of  your  children,  and  she  has  promised  to  set  about  a 
reform.  This  will  have  an  effect  on  the  parents  ;  '  a  little  leaven 
leaveneth  the  whole  lump.'  A  gentler,  tenderer  feeling  towards 
colored  citizens  will  take  root. 

"  Susie,  you  asked,  '  Faith  i?i  what  ? '  Let  me  tell  you  ;  faith  in 
the  great  Shepherd  of  us  all.  There  is  no  Babel  of  wrongs  so  high 
that  He  cannot  overturn  it.  He  will  set  bounds  to  oppression  ; 
either  national  or  individual.  Who  knows  how  soon  those  bounds 
may  be  reached.^     Trust  in  Him,  Susie." 

She  reached  for  the  bundle,  saying, — 

"  See  there  is  something  to  lighten  you  burdens.  She  held  up 
two  new  dresses  for  Addie,  one  blue,  the  other  pink ;  two  new 
aprons  tastefully  made ;  a  summer  suit  of  gray  for  Willie,  and  a 
pair  of  long-sleeved  aprons,  strong  and  new  ;  besides,  two  sets  of 
strong  underwear  for  each  ;  two  new  satchels,  prettier  than  any 
others  in  school ;  ruffles  for  the  neck  of  Addie's  dresses ;  bright 
ribbons  for  her  hair ;  white  collars  for  Willie  ;  several  small  hand- 
kerchiefs, and  a  neat  hat  for  each. 

Susie's  face  lost  its  melancholy. 

"Now,"  said  Fanny,  "put   the   clothing  on  the   children,  right 
away.      Dress  them  prettily  for  school,  and   take  courage.      I  am' 
going  from  home  for  a  few  weeks,  but  I   shall  be  content  to  feel 
that  they  are  well  dressed.      I   shall   leave  a  new  book  for  Addie, 
with  the  teacher,  and  as  many  more  as  they  may  need." 

"Next,  promise  me,"  said  Mr.  Beame,  "that  every  Thursday  af- 
ternoon, you  will  bring  the  children,  and  eat  a  hearty  supper  with 
me  while  Fanny  is  gone.  Richard  is  going  also ;  I  shall  be 
aione." 

"  Promise,  Susan,"  said  Fanny. 

"  It  win  be  a  great  pleasure,  if  we  are  worthy  to  sit  at  Mrs. 
Beame's  table." 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  343 

At  the  same  time  she  was  pulling  sweet  pinks,  four-o'clock s, 
wliite  lilies  and  mignonette  for  her  friends. 

Fanny  took  them  from  Susie  with  a  deep  courtesy,  and  said 
laughingly,— 

"  If  the  same  hand  that  formed  you,  shaped  and  tinted  these 
flowers,  you  sliould  sit  at  the  table  of  kings  and  be  a  princess 
yourself.  We  are  going;  walk  with  us,  you  and  the  children, 
along  the  river  path." 

A  companion  party  started  at  the  same  moment  from  the  other 
cabin,  mirrored  in  the  cove.  Fanny  waved  her  handkerchief  to  the 
friendly  "Undines,"  and  received  an  answering  white  wave  of  a 
handkerchief  in  return. 

The  morning  of  the  morrow,  the  Sabbath  morning  of  Fanny's 
consecration,  the  morning  of  the  day  in  which  she  was  to  be  set 
apart  from  the  world,  a  chosen  vessel  of  the  Lord,  dawned  glori- 
ously. Fanny,  according  to  the  pattern  which  she  had  drawn  from 
pious  memoirs,  retired  to  her  closet,  and  on  her  knees,  repeated  a 
formula  of  prayer,  fiamed  of  fragmentary  sentences,  gleaned  from 
the  pulpit  and  the  family  altars  of  her  religious  friends,  and  which 
she  deemed  appropriate  for  the  occasion. 

A  look  of  exalted  martyrdom  solemnly  veiled  her  usual  beaming 
vivacity,  as  she  moved  silently  about  her  morning  tasks.  At  the 
sight  of  this  "Third  Heaven"  expression,  her  mother  frequently 
turned  away,  and  smiled;  affectionately  abstaining  from  wounding 
the  mistaken  ecstasy  of  her  beloved  child. 

Mrs.  Beame  even  accompanied  Fanny  on  the  long  ride  to  Cloud- 
spire,  driving  herself ;  she  cheerfully  sustained  conversation  upon 
the  natural  attractions  along  the  route.  She  entered  the  double 
green  door  of  the  church  by  her  daughter's  side,  and  sat  by  her 
in  one  of  the  sqaure,  high-backed  pews. 

During  the  morning  services,  Fanny's  glances  towards  her 
mother's  countenance  convinced  her  that  the  old  spirit  of  unbelief 
was  still  triumphant, —  a  phase  of  spiritual  degeneracy,  most  chill- 
ing to  Fanny's  thoughts.  It  caused  a  stab  of  patn  to  her  own  de- 
votion ;  and  beneath  the  shelter  of  her  cottage  bonnet  she  closed 
her  eyes,  offering  a  petition  that  she  might  not  be  separated  from 
that  dear  mother  at  the  gate  of  Heaven,  to  whose  entrance  she. 


344  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

herself,  expected  to  attain,  through  belief  and  the  "  perseverance  of 
the  saints." 

At  the  commencement  of  the  exercises  of  the  Lord's  Supper, 
Fanny's  grief  for  her  mother  was  cruelly  intensified.  The  elect,  and 
those  about  taking  sacred  vows,  were  requested  to  sit  apart  in  a 
body.  This  seemed  typicar of  the  final  separation^  of  the  faithful 
and  unbelieviug.  Taking  her  seat  in  Deacon  Steele's  pew  by 
Mary,  Fanny  saw  her  mother  enter  a  pew  near  the  door.  She 
could  not  restrain  regretful  tears. 

Standing  in  the  aisle,  with  other  candidates,  and  assenting  to 
"  Articles  of  Faith  "  clearly  pronounced  by  the  pleasant  voice  of 
the  new  clergyman,  but  vaguely  understood  by  the  candidates, 
Fanny  felt  that  this  act  of  earthly  renunciation  was  the  most  ac- 
ceptable service  she  could  render  to  the  Savior  she  adored.  She 
believed  this  form  of  confession  well  pleasing  to  Him,  but  did  not 
understand  that  her  visit  to  Susie's  cabin,  the  day  previous,  was 
rayed  with  a  more  ineffable  glory  than  this  Sabbath  errand  to 
Cloudspire.  Nor  did  she  imagine  that  when  she  knelt  by  Susan, 
and  pityingly  passed  her  hand  over  her  stricken  head,  there  was 
more  joy  in  Heaven  than  when  she  solemnly  and  publicly  assented 
to  those  cold,  mysterious  "  Articles." 

Wtith  bared  head,  her  brown  hair  banded  plainly  back,  and  wear- 
ing the  simplest  dress  of  unadorned  white,  in  pure  and  nun-like 
humility  she  approachad  the  silver  font,  brooded  by  winged  an- 
gels, and  which  contained  the  liquid  seal  of  her  union  with  the 
people  of  God. 

Inexpressible  stillness  pervaded  the  church,  while  the  water  of 
consecration  fell  from  the  hand  held  above  her  head,  and  the 
voice  of  the  clergyman  said  with  fraternal  gentleness, — 

^^  Fa?iny,  I  baptize  t/iee,  m  the  7iame  of  the  Father^  the  Son,  and  the 
Holy  Ghosty 

It  was  over, —  this  long-desired  and  filial  act  of  Fanny's  life, 
she  rode  home  with  her  mother,  studying  patiently  how  to  set 
about  the  fulfillment  of  her  church  vows  most  acceptably. 

At  tea,  Richard  joined  them.  Like  his  sister,  he  clung  to  the 
church,  its  creeds  and  ceremonies.  He  had  no  doubt  of  its  errors, 
but  time  and  investagation  of  disproved  claims  would  restore  har- 
mony between  it  and  himself.     He  approved  the  step  Fanny  had 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  345 

« 

taken.     Both  were  alike  hopeful  ;   both  considered  the  church  the 
true  germinating  soil  of  man's  salvation. 

"Speaking  of  the  errors  of  the  church,  my  dear  son,"  said  Mrs. 
Beame,  "one  error  destroys  its  infallibility,  as  a  system  to  be 
trusted  ;  besides,  one  error  supposes  two^  and  a  continuation  of 
h\\i\\(\Q.\s,  ad  infinihun.  The  search  for  that  plain  path  laid  down 
by  our  Savior,  so  plain,  '  that  a  wayaring  man,  though  a  fool,  need 
not  err  therein,'  has  been  an  eig/iteen-kiindred years'  search,  and  the 
church  has  not  found  it  yet,  as  you,  Richard,  learned  at  William 
Steele's  revival.  Fannv  *  if  the  blind  lead  the  blind,  they  both  fall 
into  the  ditch.'  I  charge  you,  my  daughter,  to  make  the  example 
of  Christ  your  study.  Time  will  test  for  you  both,  the  value  of 
church  fellowship." 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

THE  fiery  glow  of  midsummer  had  passed.  Carolina's  "  City 
by  the  Sea  "  shook  the  hot  dust  from  her  parched  bowers, 
and  began  to  put  on  her  beautiful  garments.  The  garden  roses 
which  refused  their  graces  to  the  ardent  heat,  now  sprung  into  new 
life.  Trellis,  bower,  wall  2iud parterre  burst  into  beauty  and  fra- 
grance. Tender  folded  leaves  shot  out  from  the  hitherto  dormant 
buds,  and  drank  the  exhileration  of  a  Southern  November  air. 
Charleston  was  in  its  second  annual  floral  glory. 

Mistress  Valmonte  stood  at  a  table  heaped  with  the  odorous 
harvest,  which  Tony,  the  old  black  gardener,  knew  how  to  cut  so 
well.  Scilla,  the  lady's  brown  maid,  was  deftly  arranging  bouquets, 
under  the  eye  of  her  mistress,  whose  delicate  gloved  hands  only 
waved  over  the  thorny  stems,  in  airy  oratory,  directing  harmony 
in  color  and  combination. 

"  Tony,  bring  more  of  the  white  P mperatrice  de  laF  ranee ^'  said  the 
mistress  ;  in  whose  words  a  new-born  gayety  was  quite  observable 
to  the  demure  and  statuesque  ears  of  Scilla.  "  Clip  also  some 
of  the  half-open  buds,  Tony,  and  bring  more  of  the  mignonette." 

"  Bring  all  'rectly  missis  !  "  turning  to  obey. 

"Cut  a  few  of  those  pale  blue  South   American   lilies  at   the 


34^  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

edge  of  the  fountain,  and  a  handful  of  white  and  crimson  fuschias. 
Hear?" 

"  Sartin,  my  dear  missis." 

Soon  the  beautiful  flowers  were  heaped  upon  the  table,  wet  with 
dew-drops  still. 

Scilla  held  the  second  bouquet,  completed.  It  was  a  marvel 
of  beauty,  as  she  turned  it  this  way  and  that  for  the  inspection  of 
her  mistress. 

'•'  Scilla,  place  this  in  the  Roman  vase,  and  the  other  in  the  vase 
of  silver  and  alabaster,  the  one  I  brought  from  Paris  for  the 
parlors."  Then  pointing  to  a  heap  of  roses  white  as  drifted  snow, 
she  continued,  *'  Make  up  one  less  compact  of  these  ''  Pinperatrice 
dc  la  France,^  and  mingle  here  and  there,  these  crimson  bells  of 
fuschia  ;  make  it  light  and  graceful." 

The  lady  stood  by,  her  eye  kindling  with  secret  satisfaction,  as 
Scilla  brought  it  nearer  to  perfection. 

"  Now  bring  the  Venetian  vase  ;  place  it  in  that,  carry  it  up  to 
the  guest-chamber,  and  leave  it  on  the  marble  table." 

It  was  brought.  One  would  scarcely  know  which  to  admire 
most,  the  vase  or  the  flowers.  The  sculpture  was  wrought  from 
the  finest  marble,  elaborated  from  the  drippings  of  some  European 
stalactite  cave.  It  had  three  shades  of  a  warm  soft  brown  color. 
A  maiden  kneelino:  and  clad  in  a  flowing:  robe  held  above  her 
bowed  head  an  urn  of  green  malachite,  sleeted  with  pearls.  The 
maiden  herself  was  brown.  Life  like  ringlets  of  a  darker  shade 
fell  over  her  nude  dimpled  shoulders,  and  over  the  still  lighter 
shaded  folds  of  her  loose  classical  drapery.  One  crimson  bell  of 
fuschia  touched  her  exquisite  head,  another  shaded  the  bare, 
brown,  tapering  arm  raised  to  the  urn  above  it. 

"  Put  this  away  Scilla,  in  some  place  sheltered  from  dust,  till  the 
guest-chamber  is  arranged.  Then  put  together  a  larger  bouquet 
of  white  callas,  and  those  blue  Mexican  lilies,  with  English  ivy 
interspersed ;  place  that  in  the  alabaster  vase,  and  let  the  ivy 
sprays  droop  over  it.  Also,"  the  lady  continued,  waving  her 
gloved  hands  over  the  fragrant  clippings,  "form  another  still, 
entirely  of  roses  ;  mingle  all  hues,  and  varieties  of  odor." 

"  Yes,  missis,"  meekly  replied  the  faithful  slave. 


WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK  JUNE.  347 

Mistress  Valmonte  was  leaving  the  room,  when  suddenly  arrest- 
ing herself,  she  resumed. 

"  Oh,  no,  Scilla,  throw  them  in  water  now ;  come  to  dress  me,  and 
attend  to  the  flowers  afterwards." 

The  lady  entered  her  chamber,  and  with  an  air  of  fatigue,  threw 
herself  into  a  velvet  arm-chair.  She  drew  off  her  gloves  nervously, 
joined  her  soft  hands  as  if  in  the  act  of  petition  ;  while  she  cast  a 
languid  glance  about  the  handsome  apartment.  The  walls  were 
hung  with  mementos  of  foreign  travel.  Solemn  abbeys,  pictur- 
esque chateau,  snowy  peaks  and  sunny  lakes,  stirred  the  dearest 
memories  of  her  proud  heart. 

Each  view  was  associated  with  the  voice  and  love  of  one  whose 
presence  had  deepened  the  glow  of  the  sunlight,  and  heightened 
the  beauty  of  every  scene.  Electric  thought  flew  rapidly  back 
over  every  link  of  those  associations,  to  the  golden  hour,  when  at 
the  age  of  seventeen,  she  stood  with  that  chosen  one  before  the 
marriage  altar,  laid  her  jeweled  hand  in  his,  and  took  upon  herself 
the  vows  of  womanhood. 

More  slowly  retracing  the  past,  she  paused  at  two  more  evenful 
moments,  so  hallowed  to  every  mother's  memory,  when,  faint  with 
hope  and  fear,  a  tiny  new  life  was  laid  upon  her  hosom,  and  com- 
mitted to  her  future  keeping. 

The  birthplace  of  her  eldest,  Ernestin,  was  commemorated  by  a 
quiet  Roman  suburb  on  the  wall  at  her  left.  The  spires  of  the 
Holy  City,  and  the  gilded  dome  of  "  St.  Peter's,"  pierced  the  mel- 
low air.  Around  the  ground  of  the  villa,  a  dreamy  dilapidation 
was  apparent,  excluding  bustle  and  fashion,  while  it  secreted  and 
shielded  the  one  great  joy  within  —  the  birth  of  a  son  and  heir 
to  the  rank  and  chivalry  of  the  distinguished  name  of  Valmonte  of 
South  Carolina. 

The  birthplace  of  Corinne,  the  younger,  was  portrayed  by  shaded 
windows,  overlooking  the  Rialto  of  Venice,  and  its  gay  gondolas, 
skimming  the  liquid  thoroughfares  below. 

The  tender  transcripts  of  a  sainted  past  shed  a  grieved  rebuke 
upon  her  morning's  work  —  the  intense  light  of  her  eyes  faded  into 
a  subdued  lustre. 

Above  the  mantel  shone  the  beautiful  waters  of  Lake  Constance, 
overhung  by  the  silvery  outline  of  the  Alps  Appenzell.      On   its 


348  WHITE    MAY,    AND    I3LACK    JUNE. 

southern  fertile  bank,  apart  from  clustered  abodes,  rose  the  white 
marble  shaft,  which  marked  the  grave  of  her  young  husband,  Fran- 
cis Valmonte,  near  by  the  pretty  Swiss  cottage  where  their  jour- 
neyings  diverged  forever. 

Alas  !  the  flowers  desinged  for  the  guest-chamber  seemed  to  her 
for  the  moment  appropriate  garlands  for  that  sacred  spot. 

However,  Tune,  which  covers  reeking  battle-fields  with  flowers, 
and  which  veils  ghastly  ruins  with  most  inviting  grace,  was  proving 
a  most  reliable  friend  to  Mistress  Valmonte.  Three  years  of  his 
healing  art  had  restored  her  natural  vivacity  and  her  sparkling 
glow  of  health.  Time  had  made  green  again  the  indefinable  long- 
ing for  that  companionship,  which  should  bring  with  it  the  fulfill- 
ment of  all  life's  possibilities. 

Theresa  Valmonte  was  not  one  to  be  deterred  from  the  prosecu- 
tion of  a  well-arranged  plan.  Having  once  formed  a  purpose,  it 
became  the  pole  star  of  every  motive.  She  was  the  conscious  pos- 
sessor of  that  triple  dower,  wealth,  beauty  and  accomplishments; 
to  which,  in  woman,  the  world  pays  obsequious  homage.  The  sec- 
ond portion  of  her  dower,  her  mirror,  flatteringly  whispered. 

"  It  pictured  a  blonde  with  a  superb  cut  of  features,  an  abundance 
of  braided  hair,  a  shade  darker  than  flaxen  ;  a  full,  rounded  bust ; 
arms  of  perfect  symmetry;  and  hdinds J>e/i/cs,  on  which  could  not 
be  seen  the  faintest  stain  of  industry. 

She  was  weary  of  the  sombre  weeds  of  widowhood,  and  was  de- 
termined to  brave  the  time-honored  custom  of  her  native  State  — 
that  of  dooming  herself  to  a  solitary  and  widowed  life. 

Therefore,  as  the  expected  occupant  of  the  guest-chamber  was  to 
arrive  during  the  day,  she  would  commence  to  lay  aside  those  grave 
habiliments  of  grief  which  found  no  semblance  in  her  heart  or  affec- 
tions.    Orders  were  given  accordingly. 

"  Scilla,  ring  the  bell  for  the  chamber-maid ;  and  lay  out  my 
gray  carriage-suit." 

The  chamber-maid  appeared,  and  received  commands  to  dress 
the  chamber  with  great  care,  using  the  embroidered,  lace-frilled 
pillow-covers,  and  the  fine  frilled  linen  sheets  ;  to  loop  up  the  lace 
pavilion  with  the  white  silk  cord  and  tassels,  and  to  have  all  com- 
pleted by  her  return, 

*'  Scilla,  ring  the  bell  for  the  footman  and  order  the  carriage  at 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  349 

ten.  Now  dress  me  and  listen  to  what  I  shall  say."  While  the 
dexterous  hands  of  the  maid  drew  on  her  mistress'  bootees,  and 
while  she  buttoned  and  smoothed  the  fine  fabric  to  Madame  Val- 
monte's  form,  while  she  adjusted  the  costly  collar  round  her  clear 
throat,  and  drew  on  carefully  her  close-fitting  gloves,  her  lady  con- 
tinued,— 

"  While  I  am  away,  lay  out  my  white  dress,  find  my  lace  flounces, 
get  them  ready  for  my  toilet  at  dinner.  Lay  out  my  set  of  pearls  ; 
have  ready  also,  a  few  clusters  of  that  small  purple  flower  near  the 
century  plant ;  Tony  knows  where  it  is.  Now  bring  my  purse  and 
the  note  which  the  footman  brought  up  yesterday.  It  is  ten 
o'clock." 

Scilla  followed  the  madame  down  stairs;  opening  and  closing 
doors  for  her,  as  she  swept  on  to  the  carriage.  Sne  even  followed 
to  the  marble  block,  at  the  carriage  steps,  and  held  away  her  dress 
from  the  dust  of  the  wheels,  although  that  was  the  prerogative  of 
the  footman  in  attendance. 

Before  the  door  closed,  the  lady  addressed  her  maid,  speaking 
in  a  low  tone. 

"Tell  that  detestable  minx,  Harriet,  to  dress  my  darlings,  and 
take  them  out  walking^  for  one  hour." 

The  spirited  grays  dashed  away  to  East  Bay.  They  tossed  their 
heads  and  flung  their  foam  before  the  oflSce  door  of  ''  Ker- 
shaw &  Lewis,"  the  financial  agents  of  her  ancient  family. 

The  door  swung  open  —  the  lady  entered  the  small  carpeted 
room,  prepared  for  such  patrons.  After  the  blandest  of  receptions, 
seating  herself,  she  drew  out  a  note.  Cautiously  glancing  it  over, 
she  addressed  the  factor. 

'•  I  see,  Mr.  Kershaw,  by  this  communication,  that  my  funds  for 
the  present  are  already  all  drawn." 

"I  regret  to  say  that  you  are  correctly  informed.  Mistress  Val- 
monte ;  especially  if  it  subjects  you  to  any  annoyance." 

'•I  confess  to  some  surprise,  sir.  Doubtless,  this  was  owing  to 
heedlessness  on  my  part.  If  you  please,  sir,  will  you  inform  me  to 
what  items  I  am  indebted  for  this  failure } " 

"With  much  pleasure,  madame." 

He  stepped  into  the  office,  and  returned  with  her  own  ledger  — 
a  handsome  book,  bound  on  the  back  and  corners  in  red  morocco. 


35o  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

A  square  of  the  same  color  on  the  cover,  bore  in  gilt  letters  the  name, 
"  llicrcsa  Valmontc^  nee  Paisley^  He  drew  a  chair  to  her  side, 
and  on  the  marble  table,  turned  the  fateful  leaves. 

"  There,  madame,  are  the  items  which  swell  our  credit  column 
beyond  its  annual  amount.  Your  trip  to  the  North,  this  year,  com- 
menced earlier,  and  continued  later  than  usual." 

He  traced  the  pages  of  the  previous  year,  and  compared  those 
expenses  with  the  present. 

"  You  perceive  this  amount  is  three  thousand  dollars  more  than 
last  year." 

'"Very  true,  sir." 

"  I  would  also  direct  your  attention  to  the  purchase  of  furniture, 
made  at  that  time." 

"Ah,  yes,  I  recollect." 

"  That  amount  was  two  thousand  dollars ;  also  the  excellent 
matched  pair  of  carriage  horses,  purchased  in  New  York,  and  the 
cost  of  transferring  them  to  Charleston  —  twelve  hundred  dollars." 

*']Mr.  Kershaw,  I  believe  Dido  was  sold  from  my  estate;  I  think 
last  spring;  jnst  after  my  arrival  in  New  York.  I  disremember 
precisely  what  her  sale  brought  me." 

'•I  will  show  you  with  great  pleasure.  Pray  pardon  me  one  mo- 
ment." 

He  left  the  room  again,  opened  a  large,  tin  trunk  containing  the 
•family  papers  and  correspondence,  took  from  it  a  package  of  let- 
ters and  returned.  Running  rapidlv  over  the  pile,  he  selected  one 
labelled  "  Sale  of  Dido  r 

With  a  wave  of  her  hand,  she  said, — 

'•  Read  it  sir,  if  you  please.  These  business  details  are  exceed- 
ing irksome  to  me."     He  read, — 

"  Neiv  York,  184  — 
"  Messrs.  Kershavv  &  Lewis, — Gentlemen, — I  am  compelled  to  call  upon 
you  again,  for  an  addition  to  my  funds  in  hand.  I  have  recently  met  here  the 
Rev.  Mr,  Luther  Winfield,  who  is  building  up  a  church,  as  I  believe  in  the  in- 
terests of  the  gospel.  He  interprets  the  Constitution  as  harmonious  in  principle 
with  our  Holy  Bible,  in  respect  to  slavery.  Although  born  and  raisec^  in  the 
North,  he  is  not  one  of  those  dangerous  fanatics,  who  constantly  disturb  our 
Southern  peace  ;  but  is  a  bold  standard-bearer  for  our  time-honored  Institution. 
His  church  is  yet  struggling  in  its  infancy ;  I  am  reminded  of  my  duty 
towards  it. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  35 1 

"I  have  a  slave,  called  'Dido,'  on  'Deer  Park'  plantation,  which  I  beg  you 
to  have  brought  to  the  city  for  sale.  Dido  has  a  clear,  brown  color,  and  is 
about  twenty-two  years  old,  entirely  sound.  I  wish  to  donate  to  Rev.  \Vin- 
field's  church  one  thousand  dollars.  Sell  Dido  for  as  much  over  that  sum  as 
possible.  Remit  to  me  the  whole  proceeds,  I  meet  at  this  church  a  host  of  our 
Charleston  friends.     They  are  all  quite  well. 

"Respectfully  Yours, 

"Theresa  Valmonte." 

"This  wench  Dido,  was  highly  marketable,"  explained  the  factor. 
*'0n  the  auction  table  she  brought  eleven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars; 
but  of  course  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  above  your  charity  was  of 
little  use." 

"  Ah,  yes !  The  one-thousand  dollars  was  a  timely  aid  to  the 
church  ;  and  the  surplus  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  I  de- 
posited in  the  private  purse  of  Lottie,  the  worthy  pastor's  wife." 

"  So  that  the  sale  of  the  girl  was  of  no  benefit  to  yourself." 

"  Certainly  not,  pecuniarily  —  only  in  the  consciousness  of  having 
added  my  mite  in  sustaining  our  Holy  Church ;  but  the  disposal 
of  Dido's  price  was  not  quite  clear  to  memory.  The  letter,  how- 
ever, elucidates,  and  removes  all  obscurity  relating  to  the  transac- 
tion. I  regret,  Mr.  Kershaw,  to  have  given  you  so  much  trouble  ; 
and  yet,  to  escape  from  this  unforseen  dilemma,  I  have  one  more 
favor    to  ask. 

"  Demand  of  us  any  favor,  my  dear  madame.  It  shall  be  our 
highest  pleasure  to  serve  you." 

"  Accept  my  thanks  sir,  for  this  consideration.  I  desire  to  give 
a  mortgage  on  my  footman,  '  Ishmael,'  for  a  few  hundred  dollars, 
and  to  sell  him  afterwards  when  I  shall  have  provided  myself  with 
another." 

"  We  will  make  the  requisite  advance  upon  him  at  any  time  you 
choose  to  designate." 

"  He  is  a  prime,  likely  fellow,"  continued  the  lady,  "  sound  and 
saleable.     I  have  need  of  the  money  this  morning." 

"  We  are  at  your  service,  madame  ;  how  much  is  desired  ? " 

"  Whatever  your  judgement  suggests,  sir." 

"Kershaw  &l  Lewis  "  had  dealt  in  the  family  histories  of  blue- 
blooded  aristocracy  for  many  years.  They  knew  how  these  genea- 
logical trees  had  been  budded  and  grafted,  and  how  these  boasted 


V 


^ 


52  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 


ancestral  currents  were  wont  to  turn  from  their  legal  direction,  and 
n. ingle  with  foreign  vitality. 

Mr.  Kershaw,  the  factor,  held  the  key  to  the  mysteries  of  Doc- 
tor Paisley's  family.  He  knew  that  in  Ishmael's  veins  coursed  the 
same  proud  blood,  as  in  the  azure  channels  of  Theresa  Valmonte's. 
He  knew  that  Theresa,  the  mistress,  and  Ishmael,  the  footman, 
were  brother  and  sister  —  knew  it  as  well  as  Theresa  and  Ishmael 
themselves.  A  stranger  would  have  been  struck  with  the  simi- 
larity in  their  mold  of  features,  in  the  finely  arched  nose,  in  the 
level  penciled  eyebrows,  in  the  fine  chin,  in  the  full-orbed  eyes, 
differing  only  in  color.  Both  faces,  the  brown  brother's  and  the 
waxen  sister's,  wore  the  subtle  expression  of  hauteur  which  distin- 
guished the  Paisley  descent. 

The  factor  also  knew  that  both  these  before  him,  were  the  two 
poems  of  Doctor  Paisley's  life  —  the  one,  written  in  illuminated 
silver  ;  the  other,  in  rich,  tawny  gold 

The  two  mothers  had  each  hidden  her  secret  sorrows  in  her  own 
grave,  years  agone  —  the  one  beneath  sculptured  marble  and  a 
lofty  name  —  the  other  beneath  the  common  turf  of  oblivion.  Ish- 
mael had  been  given  to  Theresa  iu  her  marriage  portion,  as  a  fit- 
ting little  page  for  this  queen-like  daughter  of  the  South,  Her 
title  to  her  brother  was  clear  and  legal.  He  was  received  among 
her  goods  and  chattels,  consequently  was  wholly  at  her  disposal. 

Besides  this  consciousness  of  power  over  him,  other  motives 
urged  his  separation  from  her  family.  The  growing  fondness 
which  their  gray  headed  father  manifested  for  this  Benjamin  of 
his  heart,  proved  a  thorn  to  Theresa's  content.  Ishmael  must  be 
ever  about  him,  at  morning,  midday  and  night.  She  had  seen  her 
father's  eye  brighten  with  delight  at  his  son's  approach.  She  had 
observed  the  shade  of  anxiety  which  quickly  responded  to  a  casual 
cloud  upon  the  boy's  face. 

Corinne,  her  youngest,  whose  yet  infantine  heart  pulsated  the 
unadulterated  blood  of  two  branches  of  Carolina's  chivalry,  and 
whose  skin  was  waxen  as  a  snow-drop,  also  loved  Ishmael.  The 
mother  had  met  her  child,  dancing  up  and  down  the  long  hall  by 
his  side  with  her  tiny  hand  in  his.  Corinne  often  nestled  into  his 
strong,  gentle  arms,  peering  into  the  depths  of  his  dark,  quiet  eyes, 
and   caressed  his  handsome  face.     She  would  climb  into  a  chair 


WHITE   MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  353 

beside  him,  dally  with  his  soft  hair,  and  count  its  glossy  waves  in 
her  sweet,  childish  prattle,  till  his  thoughtful  face  beamed  into  a 
new  happiness. 

Madame  Valmonte  had  resolved  that  this  condition  of  things 
should  exist  no  longer.  She  would  tear  him  awav  from  all  these 
household  affections,  she  would  crush  them  root  and  branch. 
Hence  Ishmael's  mortgage  and  anticipated  sale. 

"  Messrs.  Kershaw  &  Lewis  in  the  outer  office  exchanged  a  few 
confidential  sentences,  passed  separately  to  the  door,  before  which 
the  "  boy  "  waited  by  the  carriage  steps,  returned  to  the  desk  and 
filled  out  a  printed  form  of  mortgage. 

Mr.  Kershaw  presented  himself  to  the  lady,  bearing  the  mort- 
gage in  hand  and  proffering  a  polite  excuse. 

"  I  regret  to  prolong  the  tedium  of  business  ;  but  here  is  the  in- 
strument, Madame  Valmonte,  requiring  your  signature,  and  in  virtue 
of  which,  we  advance  you  five  hundred  dollars  on  Ishmael.  Will 
you  read  it,  madame.''  " 

Again  the  gloved  hand  waved,  the  head  slightly  turned  away,  the 
lips  said, — 

"No  indeed!  I  have  full  confidence  in  your  fidelity,  sir;  "  and 
quickly  affixed  her  name  to  the  document. 

With  a  smile  of  polite  satisfaction,  she  received  the  five  hundred 
dollars  and  placed  it  in  her  purse. 

Ishmael  held  her  dress  from  contact  with  carriage  dust,  and 
closed  the  door  after  her. 

"  Drive  to  the  silk  merchant's  in  King  street." 

Away  they  flew.  When  the  liveried  coachman  drew  rein  before 
the  merchant's  gay  windows,  and  he  saw  the  lady  herself  alight,  he 
secretly  rubbed  his  hands  with  gratification.  He  offered  her  the 
obsequiousness  that  her  rank  and  style  decided  proper. 

Piece  after  piece  of  costly  silks  from  every  country  where  the 
mulberry  grows,  or  the  Bombyx  Mori  spins  its  shroud,  were  handed 
from  the  shelves.  His  counters  glowed  and  glossed  in  rippling 
waves  of  lustre  and  brightness.  He  drew  out  separate  fabrics  to 
the  best  advantage.  Hues  of  spring,  summer  and  autumn,  tints 
of  blossoming  orchards  and  ripened  fruits,  the  glow  of  sunrises, 
sunsets  and  noonday  skies  were  spread  about  in  sheeny  disorder. 

This  customer  had  no  time  to  lose.     Although  her  taste  was 


354  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK  JUNE. 

fascinated  by  rich  satins  and  entrancing  colors,  a  quick  eye, 
prompted  by  warning  memories,  selected  a  delicate,  amethystine 
gray. 

"Chaste  and  subdued  it  must  be,"  thought  she. 

The  merchant  raised  it  over  his  hand,  drawing  it  up  in  folds. 

"  Ah  !  madame,  that  is  superb  !  Allow  me  to  commend  your 
choice.  The  color  is  soft  as  the  haze  of  summer  ;  it  has  such  a 
body  that  it  stands  alone.      Such  a  silk  the  empress  might  wear." 

Ishmael,  who  attended  his  mistress,  took  the  package  from  the 
merchant's  hands  and  followed  Theresa  to  the  carriage.  The 
coachman's  next  direction  was  to  Madmoiselle  La  Rondes. 

Here  the  reception  was  conducted  in  the  same  servility  of  man- 
ner. The  little  French  dressmaker  acceded  toher  patrons  caprices 
with  "^/<f  /argess  plaish'."  She  fluttered  about  among  the  patterns 
and  the  beaux  moddes  des  robes^  repeating, — 

"  ye  snis  c/iarmee  to  see  IMadame  Valmonte  le  matin.  I  shall 
bring  Mam'zelle  Jeane  chez  voiis  i77imediatemejit.  I  has  plentee  nou- 
veaux  modoles  de  Paris  voycz  dis  one." 

Her  jeweled  fingers  flew  among  the  boxes,  removing  a  dozen 
covers,  and  putting  the  counters  in  admirable  confusion. 

"Look  dis  corsage  for  wie  7'obe  de  soiey  She  held  in  her  hand  a 
doll  dressed  in  Parisian  mode. 

"How  you  like,  madame?"  Cctte  robe  vous  ira  a  merveiile  /  a 
me?'veille  !    Jeane,  come  to  me  dis  moment." 

After  many  little  peremptory  gesticulations  and  French  ejacula- 
tions, she  pointed  to  the  doll. 

"  Preiiez  la  pour  modeled 

She  expressed  to  Theresa  great  delight,  "  d^ avoir  Poccasion  de  vous 
etre  tit  He  J' 

The  final  stroke  of  condescension  was  directed  to  Jeane,  amidst 
sundry  nods  and  smiles. 

"  Sou  venez-vous.     La  robe  seraitji}ie  bientot^ 

The  departure  was  followed  up  with  persistent  good  nature. 
Madmoiselle  La  Rondes  proceeded  to  the  door,  saying, — 

"  jfe  vais  Vouvrir  moi-memeJ^  chattering  meanwhile  the  most 
charming  au  revoirs" 

A  short  time  after  the  return  home,  Ishmael  answered  the  street- 
bell  to  the  children  and  their  young  governess.     Passing  in,  weary 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  355 

and  flushed  with  the  heat  of  the  street,  she  left  her  charge  in  the 
care  of  Issy  for  a  moment,  then  came  tripping  down  stairs  to  the 
parlor  door  —  hesitated,  and  entered.  During  her  absence,  Corinne 
climbed  upon  his  knee,  drew  his  head  down,  confiding  to  his  ear 
what  seemed  to  her,  important  information. 

"Issy,"  she  whispered,  "we  saw  Major  Measures  on  our  walk. 
After  he  had  spoken  to  Eddie  and  me,  he  complimented  Hattie  on 
her  beauty,  and  called  her  a  Northern  lily.  Mamma  will  be  angry 
if  she  knows  it,  for  she  dislikes  her.  He  is  coming  soon  to  call 
upon  grandpapa  and  mamma." 

'•  So,  so,"  nodded  Issey  ;  "  he  did  !  " 

"  Yes !  "  and  with  her  arms  about  his  neck,  and  her  cheek 
against  his,  she  whispered  her  request, — 

"  You  will  not  speak  of  it,  Issy,  because  I  love  Hattie  ? " 

"No,  no!  Miss  Corinne.     Issy  will  say  nothing." 

The  scene  in  the  parlor  might  interest  the  reader.  Hattie  learned 
from  Scilla  that  Mistress  Valmonte  was  below,  and  accordingly 
hastened  to  the  parlor. 

"  Mistress  Valmonte,  I  beg  pardon  for  the  interruption,  but  I 
would  like  to  ask  if  I  can  practice  an  hour  upon  the  piano  now, 
before  dinner,  and  if  Scilla  will  remain  with  the  children  in  the 
nursery,  meantime?" 

A  frown  gathered  on  the  lady's  lips. 

"There  will  be  no  more  practice  this  week.  Take  the  children 
to  the  nursery  yourself.  At  one  o'clock,  repair  to  my  dressing-room 
and  spend  the  remainder  of  the  day  in  sewing.  I  claim  your  time. 
Colonel  Ashland  agreed  that  the  daily  routine  of  your  duties 
should  be  at  my  disposal.  I  am  harassed  by  this  continued  prac- 
tice." 

*'  Colonel  Ashland  urged  my  coming  to  Charleston,  for  the  rea- 
son that  my  musical  advantages  would  be  improved  by  an  accept- 
ance of  this  situation." 

"  Colonel  Ashland  is  a  gentleman  of  veracity,  yet  your  words  are 
a  contradiction  of  mine.  Do  not,  Harriet,  add  falsehood  to  im- 
pertinency." 

Blank  surprise  marked  the  accused  girl's  manner ;  yet  after  a 
little  hesitation,  she  summoned  courage  to  say, — 

"I  trust,  Misstress  Valmonte,  you  do  not  consider  it  impertinent 


356  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

to  consult  you  respecting  my  hour  of  practice.  I  am  ignorant  of 
any  other  impropriety.  The  accusation  of  falsheood  wounds  me. 
]\ry  mother  brought  me  up  in  the  love  of  truth,  and  in  the  fear  of 
the  Creator." 

"I  am  not  interested  in  your  family  relations,"  bitterly  responded 
the  lady.  "On  that  head,  I  prefer  silence.  You  are  impertinent 
in  replying  at  all  to  my  commands,  but  the  highest  degree  of  igno- 
rant impudence  is  in  the  assertion  entirely  opposed  to  mine,  con- 
cerning Colonel  Ashland." 

"  My  explanation  was  truthful  ; "  said  the  weeping  girl. 

In  a  twinkling,  the  slap  of  a  slipper  stung  each  side  of  her  face, 
causing  it  to  burn  scarlet.  Before  her  terrified  gaze  stood  Mistress 
Valmonte  in  towering  anger,  holding  the  Southern  weapon  yet  in 
her  hand.  Swift  bolts  of  wrath  fell  from  the  lady's  incensed  eyes 
upon  Hattie  as  she  cried, — 

"  Silence !  audacity,  silence  !  I  command  it.  Leave  my  pres- 
ence, thou  base-born  Northerner  !  " 

Hattie  fled  to  the  hall  without  farther  admonition,  and  took  the 
children  to  the  nurser3\  Now,  indeed,  she  felt  her  utter  desola- 
tion. 

Accustomed  to  the  eternal  distance  between  her  sufferings  and 
the  grave  of  her  mother,  she  longed  for  the  faithful  arms  of  old 
Mauma  Rose. 

"  Oh  !  ■'  thought  Hattie,  "  could  I  but  lay  my  head  upon  her  lap, 
and  feel  her  soothing  hand  upon  its  throbbing  pain  ! " 

She  pressed  her  temples  nervously  with  both  hands,  and  leaned 
over  the  sill  of  her  chamber  window,  as  if  to  catch  sight  of  the 
dear  old  black  face  in  the  garden. 

A  nonpariel's  carol  in  a  crape  myrtle,  the  lofty  blue  sk}*,  a  small 
white  cloud  sailing  slowly  past,  and  the  bright  flowers  below,  had 
a  balm  for  her  miserv.  She  seemed  to  hear  her  mother's  voice, 
sharing,  as  of  old,  in  the  lovely  phase  of  nature.  She  seemed  to 
feel  her  arm  about  her,  and  to  hear  her  quiet  words, — 

"  Be  calm,  my  daughter.     Endure  !  " 

She  sank  into  a  seat,  and  peered  into  the  fathomless  blue, 
questioning  if  her  mother  were  somewhere  there  ;  if  in  celestial 
robes  she  might  be  looking  down  upon  her  child  ;  if  she  might 
know  the  eventb  of  this  bitter  hour.^     The  silence  of  eternity  was 


WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  357 

her  only  answer.  Dropping  her  head  upon  her  arms  again,  she 
wept. 

Corinne  and  Ernestin  approached  and  leaned  upon  her. 

"  Hattie,  what  makes  you  cry?  " 

Corinne  would  wipe  away  the  tears  with  her  own  little  handker- 
chief. When  Hattie  said  "Hush?  children,"  to  their  innocent 
prattle,  Corinne  insisted. 

"  I  must  talk,  Hattie.  I  must  comfort  you,  Hattie.  I  love  you. 
Ernestin  loves  you." 

It  was  one  o'clock.  Scilla  appeared  at  the  nursery  door,  to  take 
charge  of  the  children,  a  signal  that  Mistress  Valmonte  inflexibly 
demanded  Ilattie's  assistance  in  her  dressing-room.  Sustained  by 
an  approving  consciousness  of  right,  she  entered  the  chamber  of 
the  mistress,  and  met  her  frozen,  supercilous  manner,  with  a 
forced  serenity,  equaling  that  of  the  lady.  She  received  her  task 
from  a  heap  of  laces,  setting  quietly  about  it 

In  a  few  moments,  Hattie  observed  through  the  glass  door  of 
the  dressing-room,  the  entrance  of  a  brown  girl,  who  stood  before 
her  mistress  with  eyes  downcast  to  the  floor. 

'•'  So  you  have  come  back  to  your  work,"  said  Mistress  Valmonte. 
"Remember,  girl,  it  is  only  by  my  kindness  and  pardon,  that  you 
are  here.  Go  to  the  dressing-room,  and  attend  to  your  work. 
Another  delinquency  will  carry  you  back  to  the  work-house  for  a 
longer  stay,  and  a  severer  discipline.     Go  !  " 

The  slave-girl  glided  into  the  dressing-room,  and  sat  silently 
down  to,  the  table,  opposite  Hattie.  Mistress  Valmonte  came  in 
soon  after,  to  give  directions  concerning  the  lace  flounces  and 
white  dress,  laid  out  during  her  absence,  and  passed  out.  Scilla 
entered  to  attend  to  her  mistress'  noon  siesta. 

Thus  left  to  themselves,  Huttie  passed  her  hand  over  the  table 
and  gave  her  companion  the  benediction  of  a  friendly  pressure, 
which  was  recognized  by  the  lifting  of  silken  lashes,  and  a  sad 
smile. 

When  the  danger  of  discovery  was  probably  lost  in  the  sleep 
of  the  mistress,  Hattie  touched  her  arm  and  whispered  the  one 
word, — 

"  Work-house  ?  " 

The  brown  girl  nodded  assent. 


35^  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JLTNE. 

"  How  long?" 

"  A  week,"'  was  the  scarcely  breathed  reply. 

"  What  offence  ?  " 

"  Fell  asleep  over  my  sewing  one  day  —  had  been  awake  nearly 
all  the  night  before  —  and  plaited  mistress'  skirt  wrong." 

After  a  safe  interval,  Hattie  asked  under  her  breath, — 

"  Any  punishment  ?  " 

The  girl  left  her  seat,  under  pretence  of  picking  up  a  lost  spool, 
bent  near  Hattie,  and  whispered. — 

"Ten  lashes."  Then  passing  out  of  range  of  the  glass  door 
pointed  to  its  treacherous  panes,  shook  her  head,  and  laid  her 
finger  upon  her  lips.  Each  plied  the  needle,  occupied  with  her 
own  thought. 

Hattie  pondered  doubtfully, — 

"  What  would  be  the  next  step  in  her  destiny  ?  How  far  would 
Mistress  Valmonte  carry  her  cruel  prerogative  over  her  ?  To  the 
work-house .''  She  had  been  slapped  in  the  face  like  a  slave. 
Might  not  the  lash  fall  next.?  " 

She  bethought  herself  of  flying  North.  Alas,  her  funds  left  by 
her  mother,  were  in  the  possession  of  Colonel  Ashland.  He  had 
proved  himself  false  to  her  interests  in  her  first  efforts  at  self- 
help,  he  might  again  baffle  her  in  the  attempt  to  recover  her 
money. 

Thus  sat  the  two  girls,  equally  friendless,  wretched  and  con- 
fused, each  revolving  the  probabilities  of  release. 

Towards  evening,  Hattie  heard  prancing  hoofs,  and  a  dash  of 
wheels  at  the  door.  Issy  brought  up  a  card.  Mistress  Valmonte 
descended  to  the  parlors,  and  was  there  met  by  the  gallantry  of 
Major  Measures,  who  handed  her  to  the  sofa,  lavishing  upon  her 
every  compliment  which  the  daughter  of  so  noble  a  family  as  the 
Paisley's  could  desire. 

The  lady  received  these  subtle  praises  with  appropriate  grace, 
for  Major  Measures  was  Carolina's  proud  son,  and  still  a  bachelor. 
His  manner  at  "St.  Cloud"  was  renowned  for  epicurean  enter- 
tainments, and  lavish  hospitality  to  planters  who  loved  the  chase. 
His  dogs  and  horses  were  renowned  in  the  sport,  his  parks  and 
forest  were  labyrinths  of  game.  The  names  and  number  even  of 
his  slaves  u-ere  scarcely  known  to  him.     He  conferred  privileges 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  359 

upon  them,  exceeding  law  and  custom  —  but  woe  be  to  the  patrol 
who  dared  to  contravene  his  reckless  kindness.  The  inevitable 
"Marse  IMeasures"  pass  was  sufficient  protection  at  all  hours  and 
places.  Ever  gallantly  courteous  to  Carolina's  daughters,  ever 
received  with  their  most  winning  welcome,  neither  his  heart  or  his 
hand  had  yet  been  ensnared. 

The  ostensible  object  of  his  call  was  to  convey  to  Dr.  Paisley 
the  regrets  of  the  Rev.  Warham,  that  his  arrival  must  be  delayed 
until  a  late  hour  of  the  evening.  He  was  on  his  way,  had  hunted 
at  "  St.  Cloud,"  the  week  previous  ;  was  now  at  "  Le  Grand  Palais," 
unexpectecHy  detained;  all  of  which  was  listened  to  with  a  well- 
feigned  nonchalance,  concealing  the  sweet  satistaction  she  felt  at 
the  certainty  of  welcoming  their  guest  at  all. 

In  a  flattering  and  very  genial  manner  he  mentioned  his  meet- 
ing on  the  street  with  the  charming  little  Corrinne  and  the  small 
cadet,  Ernestin,  in  charge  of  their  young  governess. 

"  I  congratulate  you.  Mistress  Valmonte,"  he  remarked,  "  upon 
your  happy  success  in  removing  those  lovely  buds  of  promise 
from  the  contact  of  an  ignorant  black  nurse,  to  intelligent  compan- 
ionship. May  I  ask  if  their  attendant  is  not  of  Southern  blood, 
from  one  of  our  high  toned,  but  reduced  families,  who,  through 
necessity,  has  found  content  in  the  intercourse  of  this  protecting 
home  ? " 

The  honor  of  Southern  birth,  even  conferred  by  supposition 
upon  Hattie,  fanned  the  embers  of  Mistress  Valmonte's  rage  against 
her  pretty  governess  into  a  flame.  Nerertheless,  she  was  skilled 
in  handling  the  reins  of  her  ire,  and  replied  composedly. 

"  Far  from  it,  I  assure  you,  sir.  Her  mother  was  a  Northern 
governess  in  the  family  of  Colonel  Ashland.  At  his  solicitation,  I 
admitted  her  to  our  family.  I  considered  it  a  charity  to  do  so. 
It  was  all  a  mistake.  I  desire  her  dismissal,  but  as  I  cannot  rec- 
ommend her  to  my  triends,  (and  I  have  relations  with  no  others,) 
I  find  myself  quite  perplexed."  These  last  words  were  breathed 
with  a  sigh,  in  the  spirit  of  martyrdom. 

Major  Measures,  the  other  actor  in  this  parlor  drama,  who  on 
all  occasions  became  the  knightly  defender  of  a  lady  in  distress, 
donned  his  armor,  and  couched  his  lance  for  the  redress  of  the 
goveress.     He   evolved  from    his    sympathetic  lips    the  important 


360  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

syllables,  "hum,  hum,  hum,"  nodding  his  handsome  head  each 
time  ;  apparently  with  the  weight  of  searching  thoughts,  he  threw 
his  earnest  gaze  upward  into  vacancy.     At  length  he  exclaimed, — 

"Unpleasant!  annoying!  extremely,  Mrs.  Valmonte,  would 
you  accept  my  services  in  this  dilemma?  " 

"With  many  obligations,  I  assure  you,  sir,  although  my  ultimate 
object  is  removal.  Her  brusque  assurance,  the  sure  taint  of 
Northern  blood,  makes  a  much  longer  stay  objectionable." 

"May  I  ask,  how  is  this  assurance  manifested?  As  she  has 
forfeited  your  recommendation,  the  points  of  this  forfeiture  must 
be  plain,  in  order  to  define  her  future  position." 

"  In  various  ways.  When  I  request  her  to  bring  the  children 
into  the  parlor  for  family  enjoyment,  she  seats  herself  with  them, 
which  is  all  very  well  w'ith  ourselves  only.  But  when  the  bell  an- 
nounces a  call,  she  complacently  remains.  Our  friends,  all  alike 
strangers  to  her,  beholding  her  thus  occupying  a  place  of  eqeality, 
extend  to  her  the  courtesies  of  society.  This,  I  am  obliged  to 
correct,  by  the  mortifying  explanation  that  their  new  acquaitance 
is  only  my  governess. 

"She  diffeis  from  my  requirements,  by  her  own  reasonings,  as 
if  she  were  my  equal,  and  to  the  manor  born.  She  does  not 
understand  her  place,  and  is  resolved  not  to  learn  it ;  she  is  incor- 
rigible." 

With  this  effort,  the  proud  lady  fell  back  upon  the  sofa,  as  if  this 
state  of  things  was  not  to  be  borne. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  replied.  "  I  think  I  have  a  clew  to  your  re- 
lief. I  will  call  again  with  your  permission,  and  make  her  ac- 
quaintance, in  order  to  secure  another  position  suited  to  her 
experience." 

Doctor  Paisley  entered.  Mistress  Valmonte  begged  to  'be 
excused,  and  retired  to  overlook  the  work  of  her  dressmaker. 

Evening  brought  the  welcome  guest,  Rev.  Fred  Warham.  Mis- 
tress Valmonte's  reception  of  him  was  entrancingly  brilliant. 
Odors  from  flower-vases  perfumed  the  atmosphere  of  the  saloons, 
and  the  waiting  silver  tea  equipage  shone  invitingly  beneath  the 
tempered  light  of  chandeliers. 

At  the  table,  there  was  no  other  to  contest  her  honors  or  at- 
tractions.    Ah !  thought  she    in  her  chamber  as  she  took  the  last 


WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  36 1 

survey  of  herself  in  the  mirror,  and  saw  her  marble  face,  without  a 
flesh  tint  on  it, — 

"  All  has  happened  so  a-propos.  The  pink  face  of  that  childish 
governess  is  banished  forever.  I  rejoice  that  she  staid  in  her  room 
to-day  at  dinner.  I  shall  make  no  concession  ;  therefore  she  will 
not  presume  to  meet  me  again  at  dinners  or  teas." 

In  light  spirits  she  fluttered  down  stairs,  and  ordered  Hattie's 
meals  sent  up  that  evening,  and  thereafter. 

During  the  evening,  a  shade  of  despondency  damped  her  hopes. 
Rev.  Fred's  conversation  being  mostly  held  with  her  father ;  remi- 
niscences of  the  recent  chase  at  "  St.  Cloud  "  and  "  Le  Grand 
Palais,"  were  seemingly  more  fascinatmg  to  him  than  the  charms 
of  his  fair  hostess.  Yet  this  cloud  had  a  silver  lining  —  for  when- 
ever he  addressed  her,  or  replied,  the  homage  she  so  earnestly 
coveted  returned  to  his  voice  and  manner.  Although  she  knew 
this  homage  to  be  a  part  of  the  Southern  code  for  her  sex  and 
rank,  she  still  construed  his  politeness  as  an  uprising  devotion  to 
herself. 

He  soon  pleaded  fatigue,  and  with  many  regrets,  sought  the 
retirement  of  his  chamber.  There,  he  ordered  his  servant  to  place 
writing  materials  upon  the  table,  sat  down  by  the  open  window  to 
inhale  the  sweet  airs  from  the  garden,  and  to  indulge  in  the  lux- 
ury of  undisturbed  reflection. 

The  influence  of  sweet  memories  stole  over  his  countenance.  By 
these  were  expelled  every  vestige  of  hauteur  and  ambitious  pride. 
He  seated  himself  at  the  table,  where  the  kneeling  maiden  held  the 
vase  of  flowers.  He  raised  the  statuette  upon  his  palm,  lifted  the 
crimson  fuschias  from  her  brown  arm  and  shoulder,  gazing  with 
wondering  delight. 

''Enchanting!  exquisite!  a  copy  of  my  darling  Minnie  !  The 
same  bewildering  curls,  the  same  enchanting  grace.  Some  other 
has  loved  like  me !  Ah  1  here  is'  the  model  of  that  soul's  passion. 
Speak  to  me.  Sylph  !  Fairy  !  Nymph  !  thou  epitome  of  all  my  soul 
adores  !  Remove  thy  burden  of  malachite  and  pearls  !  Rise  upon 
ihy  beauteous  limbs  !  " 

After  this  impassioned  admiration,  he  soliloquized, — ■ 

"No,  no!     Thou  art  stone!     No  love  light  is  in  thine  eye,  no 


362  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

kisses  for  the  homesick  wanderer  are  on  thy  lips  !      I  will  write  to 
thy  living  ante-type.     Be  thou  my  inspiration  !  " 
He  seized  the  pen. 

"  Charlestoity  Paisley  House. 

"  My  darling  Minnie,  my  beautiful, —  How  have  the  long  days  passed, 
during  my  absence  ?  Has  your  silvery  laugh  ceased,  because  my  step  echoed 
not  your  own  ?  Have  the  teardrops  dimmed  the  bright  gladness  of  those  dark, 
loving,  dreamy  eves,  because  your  true  love  was  not  near  to  kiss  them  away? 
Has  '  Breezy  Eluff  '  seemed  like  a  lonely  prison,  without  its  master  ?  Have  you 
feared  that  other  endearments  would  lure  my  heart  from  yours?  Did  you  im- 
agine the  attractions  at  'Grand  Palais  '  would  outweigh  those  of  'Breezy  Bluff  ?' 
Nay,  nay !  my  lovely  Sultana  —  none  shall  come  between  Fred  Warham  and 
his  soul's  life.  Silken  nets  will  be  spread  in  vain.  The  wealth  of  the  Indies 
cannot  buy  thee.  Neither  can  the  sighs  or  smiles  of  paler  houris  draw  me  from 
my  heart's'  idolatry. 

"Trust  me,  dear  Minnie,  a  few  more  days,  and  I  shall  fold  you  in  my  arms 
and  smooth  these  cruel  fears  with  fond  endearments.  In  the  words  of  Byron, 
which  I  have  often  repeated  to  you  at  '  Breezy  Bluff,' 

•' '  Oh  !  pardon  that  in  crowds  awhile, 

I  waste  one  thought  I  owe  to  thee. 
And,  self-condemn'd,  appear  to  smile, 

Unfaithful  to  thy  memory  ! 
Nor  deem  that  memory  less  dear, 

That  then  I  seem  not  to  repine ; 
I  would  not  fool's  should  overhear 

One  sigh  that  should  be  wholly  thine.'' 

"  Sweet  thoughts  of  thee  have  hovered  about  me  at  dawn  and  eve,  in  the  gay 
saloon,  and  the  hush  of  the  forest  When  the  hunter's  horn  has  sounded,  I  have 
wished  it  could  summon  thee,  mounted,  to  my  side,  and  that  we  might  scour  the 
green  depths  of  the  dim  woods  together.  I  shall  sleep  to-night,  while  your  pre- 
cious image  kneels  upon  my  table,  bearing  a  pearl-sleeted  vase  of  flowers  above 
her  lovely  head.  I  shall  see  her  still  kneeling  by  the  morning  light,  and  while 
I  stay  in  Charleston  she   will  plead  for  you  though   her  exquisite   beauty,  the 

counterpart  of  your  own, 

"  Adieu,  till  death, 

"  Fred." 

He  sealed  the  letter,  superscribed  his  own  narne  upon  it,  and 
gave  his  footman  orders  to  carry  it  to  the  early  mail. 

During  Fred  Warham's  stay  at  the  Parsleys,  the  doctor  gave  a 
grand  dinner  to  his  guest.  Among  the  invited,  were  ^Major  Meas- 
ures, and  Colonel  Ashland  from  ''  Nightingafe  Hall."  The  major 
and  Theresa  Valmonte  had  not  met  since  the  interview  relative  to 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  ^6^ 

the  governess.     Each  was  ignorant  of  the  other's,  motive,  but  both 
were  surprised  at  the  unexpected  success  of  their  secret  wishes. 

Sounds  of  festivity  floated  up  through  the  halls,  but  Hattie  sat  in 
her  lonely  chamber.  The  man  of  all  others,  who  should  have  in- 
quired for  her  welfare,  Colonel  Ashland,  made  no  mention  of  her 
name.  Major  Measures  accepted  the  invitation  to  dinner,  with  the 
one  sole  thought  of  Hattie  Hudson.  He  communicated  the  result 
of  his  efforts  to  IMistress  Valmonte.  He  had  found  a  family  who 
could  give  her  governess  a  small  salary,  and  the  change  would  be 
made  immediately. 

"  An  interview  is  necessary  this  evening/'  he  said,  "  as  I  am  about 
to  leave  Charleston,  and  would  like  to  see  the  daughter  of  Doctor 
Paisley  freed  from  this  vulgar  arrogance." 

Mistress  Valmonte  preferred  that  he  should  meet  Hattie  in  a 
private  library  on  the  second  floor,  and  further  opened  the  way  by 
saying  that  she  had  given  "  the  girl "  a  dismissal  on  the  strength  of 
his  aid,  and  had  informed  her  that  a  gentleman  friend  of  the  doc- 
tor's would  provide  another  place. 

Scilla  was  dispatched  with  the  message  to  Hattie.  The  distin- 
guished and  caressed  hostess  returned  to  her  sparkling  fire-fly 
manner  in  the  parlors,  casting  away  further  thoughts  of  the  mother- 
less Hattie,  or  of  the  possible  consequences  of  placing  her  destiny 
at  the  disposal  of  strangers. 

She  bade  adieu  this  night  to  the  sombre  hues  of  mourning,  and 
for  the  first  time  since  her  arrival  from  abroad  appeared  in  rich 
laces  and  pearls.  She  floated  through  the  dances,  airily  as  thistle 
down  careering  on  the  breeze.  She  promenaded  on  the  arm  of  the 
Rev.  Fred,  lavishing  upon  him  languishing  smiles,  while  he  in  re- 
turn bestowed  upon  her  refined  and  ceremonious  tokens  of  regard. 
This  Fred  performed  with  the  natural  exactness  of  a  somnambulist, 
who  walks  and  talks  in  sleep,  really  careless  of  her  designs,  and 
insensible  to  impressions  ;  for,  ever  between  them,  walked  or  sat 
his  beloved,  and  equally  graceful  brown  Minnie. 

The  ever-green  subject  of  the  "  Southern  Institution,"  its  relations 
to  their  prosperity,  Calhoun's  dogmas,  the  views  of  the  North, -ha- 
tred to  abolitionists,  and  defiant  threats  against  every  form  of  oppo- 
sition to  Southern  will,  received  their  usual  meed  of  attention. 

The  great  event  of  the  occasion  was  the  inspection  of  a  section 


364  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

of  rope,  about  four  inches  in  length,  possessed  by  Doctor  Paisley. 
This  fragment  was  enclosed  in  a  gold-bound  glass  case,  preserved 
as  a  precious  relic. 

"  This,"  said  Doctor  Paisle}^  standing  in  the  midst  of  an  ad- 
miring circle,  "  is  a  part  of  the  rope  by  which  Garrison  was  dragged 
through  the  streets  of  Boston,  by  a  party  of  freedom-loving  citizens, 
in  defence  of  Southern  rights  embodied  in  the  Constitution.  I  was 
in  Boston  at  the  time.  I  could  not  refrain  from  participating  in 
the  patriotism  surging  through  the  streets.  Impelled  by  enthu- 
siasm in  our  cause,  I  stepped  from  the  pavement,  placed  my  hand 
upon  the  rope,  and  assisted.  In  memory  of  that  day,  I  secretly  cut 
away  this  fragment.     It  is  one  of  vix^  priceless  t?'easu7'es  /^^ 

It  passed  about  among  the  throng.  Such  was  the  stimulus  to 
patriotic  fervor,  that  it  amounted  to  murderous  intent. 

"  It  should  have  been  drawn  about  Garrison's  neck,"  said  one. 

"  A  few  fanatical  heads  would  be  valuable  relics  ! "  said 
another. 

"  There  is  a  head  in  New  York,"  said  a  third,  "  which  should 
surmount  the  gate  at  the  entrance  to  Calhoun's  estate  !  " 

"  We  could  give  him  no  more  fitting  monument  of  our  gratitude," 
ejaculated  several. 

Purses  of  various  values  were  pledged  at  the  moment,  for  the 
securing  this  unique  testimonial  to  Calhoun. 

"  And  I  will  give  my  pearls,"  added  Theresa  Valmonte. 

*'  And  I  my  diamonds,"  promised  Mrs.  Chancellor  Mowndes 
excitedly,  "  if  beneath  this  head  there  be  inscribed,  '  Arthur 
Tappan.' " 

"  Hold !  ladies,  I  pray,"  begged  Honorable  Mr.  Fairland. 
"  Your  self-sacrifice  puts  us  to  the  blush.  Allow  me  to  offer  the 
half  of  my  plantations  in  your  stead." 

Hattie  timidly  entered  the  library,  and  found  time  to  reassure 
herself  before  the  entrance  of  Major  Measures.  She  dreaded  the 
interview,  for  she  almost  doubted  all  human  kind.  However,  re- 
moval was  imperative,  and  no  other  helping  hand  was  extended  but 
this,  her  street  acquaintance. 

Young  hope  prompted,  "  You  must  go,  it  matters  little  where, 
so  you  escape  the  arrogant  contempt  of  caste  in  this  mistaken 
refuge." 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  365 

The  door  opened  slowly.  Major  Measures  bowed  himself 
respectfully  into  the  library.  His  courtesy  awakened  Hattie's  self- 
respect,  and  she  gave  him  a  lady-like  welcome.  Her  knowledge  of 
society  caused  her  to  observe  directly  that  he  extended  to  herself 
the  same  deference  as  he  would  have  done  to  Mistress  Valmonte. 
Coldness  and  repugnance  vanished.  After  a  few  agreeable  phrases 
of  introduction,  he  began, — 

"  I  beg  pardon,  Miss  Hudson,  for  this  intrusion.  I  have  been 
informed  by  your  friend  in  this  family,  that  you  seek  another  loca- 
tion." 

"  I  desire  a  change,  sir." 

"  May  I  ask  if  you  have  yet  determined  where  ?  " 

"  No  sir.     I  have  very  few  acquaintances." 

"Then  I  may  have  the  pleasure  of  aiding  you  to  re-establish 
yourself  at  any  time  you  may  prefer.  There  is  a  family  nearly  a 
day's  ride  from  the  city,  which  requires  your  immediate  services. 
Your  duties  will  be  light.  There  will  be  no  lady  on  the  plantation 
superior  to  yourself.  The  household  department  will  require  your 
supervision ;  but  there  are  a  number  of  competent  servants,  that 
will  only  need  to  know  that  your  eye  is  upon  them." 

Pleased  that  she  should  not  be  forced  into  a  state  of  peonage, 
gratitude  covered  her  hopeful  face  with  blushes.     She  remarked, — 

"  My  mother  occupied  a  similar  position  for  some  years.  What 
are  the  ages  of  the  children  ? " 

"  There  are  none  in  the  house  at  present.  You  know.  Miss 
Hudson,  the  Southerner  travels  much  during  the  summer  months. 
Whenever  they  may  be  placed  under  your  charge,  I  will  pledge  you 
their  affectionate  regards." 

"  Is  that  part  of  the  country  healthy  ?  " 

"Entirely  so.  The  house  is  situated  upon  the  skirts  of  extensive 
pine  forest,  and  the  land  is  high." 

"  Is  there  a  piano  in  the  house,  sir  .?  " 

"There  will  be  soon,  Miss  Hudson;  the  master  contemplates  a 
purchase.  There  are  saddle-horses  in  the  stable,  and  a  footman  at 
your  orders." 

With  renewed  blushes,  and  modest  hesitation,  she  thanked  him 
earnestly  for  his  kind  interest  in  securing  for  her  a  situation  so 
happily  combining  all  she  could  have  asked. 


366  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

"  It  is  a  slight  favor,  young  lady.  I  am  intimate  in  the  family, 
and  know  what  will  be  satisfactory.  I  am  happy  in  doing  a  favor 
for  them  as  well  as  for  yourself." 

Alas  !  the  depth  and  meaning  of  that  sentence.  It  took  Hattie 
Hudson  a  lifetime  to  reward. 

Colonel  Measures  rose.  The  very  gentlest  of  manhood's  emo- 
tions colored  his  manner,  as  he  proffered  his  hand  at  leaving  and 
said, — 

"  So,  Miss  Hudson,  you  accept." 

Hattie  laid  her  finger  tips  upon  his  hand.  Looking  at  the  floor, 
she  replied, — 

"  With  much  pleasure,  sir." 

"  Will  you  be  ready  at  eight  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the  ensu- 
ing Monday .?     Shall  the  carriage  await  you  at  that  hour?" 

"  I  will  be  ready  when  it  pleases  you,  sir." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence  ;  yet  he  did  not  relinquish  the 
finger  tips  that  still  rested  in  his  own.  Hattie  raised  her  question- 
ing face. 

His  eyes  were  filled  with  sympathetic  tenderness,  the  very  ten- 
derness her  trampled  life  had  so  pined  for,  the  very  look  her 
mother  and  Mauma  Rose  sometimes  gave  her.  Found  again,  in- 
stantaneously it  warmed  her  whole  being,  and  wrapped  her  like  a 
garment. 

"Your  pleasure  is  mine,"  he  said.     "Good  night." 

While  Hattie  listened,  his  descending  steps  on  the  stairway 
melted  into  the  happy  confusion  below. 

That  Sabbath  was  marked  "golden."  in  the  calender  of  Theresa 
Valmonte.  Doctor  Paisley's  carriage  conveyed  to  the  church  Rev. 
Fred,  who  was  to  feed  his  hearers  with  the  bread  of  life  ;  and  her- 
self, who  was  to  listen  and  adore.  Robed  in  the  silk  of  amethystic 
gray,  the  elaborate  toilet  completed  by  bonnet,  gloves  and  shawl 
of  white,  for  which  she  had  mortgaged  her  brother  Ishmael,  she 
moved  solemnly  up  the  aisle,  sank  into  the  Paisley  cushioned  pew, 
and  bent  her  head  devoutly,  as  if  for  the  divine  benediction  upon 
the  deed  of  the  past  week.  But  reall}^  it  was  for  the  purpose  of 
controlling  agitation  ;  for  in  thus  suddenly  casting  aside  the  long- 
worn  weeds,  she  was  facing  the  censure  of  a  revered  custom,  that 
of  perpetual  widowhood. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  367 

Fred  Warham,  robed  in  sacred  vestments,  appeared  with  in- 
creased attractions  to  the  stainless  spirit  of  the  devotional  Theresa. 
His  text,  taken  from  Solomon's  Songs ;  "  Thou  art  all  fair,  my 
love  ;  there  is  no  spot  in  thee,"  stirred  a  whirl  of  sweet  hopes. 
She  seized  upon  it  as  a  veiled  declaration  of  his  unspoken  love  for 
her.  She  clung  to  its  flattering  sentiment,  as  one  fainting  grasps 
the  vinaigrette.  Nevertheless,  Rev.  Warham  lifted  up  holy  hands, 
and  magnified  the  church  according  to  Solomon's  best  intentions. 

He  constructed  before  his  hearers,  a  church  that  was  fair  and 
without  spot,  purer  than  a  palace  of  ivory  and  alabaster.  He  fes- 
tooned her  gateways,  and  garlanded  her  columns  with  the  flowers  of 
a  tropical  rhetoric.  His  sermon  was  a  work  of  art,  to  which  few 
could  attain  ;  and  the  congregation  departed,  grieving  that  the 
walls  of  Zion  could  not  retain  the  Rev.  Fred  upon  its  towers  ;  that 
talents  so  brilliant  should  be  wasted  in  a  sportsman's  career. 

The  young  clergyman  held  his  preaching  Sabbaths  sanctified  to 
the  end.  Therefore  in  harmony  with  his  practice,  he  sat  with  The- 
resa and  her  father  in  the  still  parlors,  speaking  of  churches  and 
divines,  thus  mercilessly  feeding  the  flame  which  he  perceived 
burning  for  him  in  Theresa's  soul. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  jail,  or  the  rude  building  which  answered  for  a  jail,  was 
surrounded  by  a  noisy  mob.  It  was  a  gala  day  for  St.  Louis. 
A  day  in  which  Southern  Rights,  Southern  Policy  and  Southern 
Religion,  could  be  emblazoned  by  the  alto  relivo  of  definite  action, 
—  of  action  which  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  though  a  fool,  might 
read  and  understand  ;  action  upon  repeated  threats  of  "cold  steel, 
burning  at  the  stake,  scourgings,  hangings,  imprisonments,"  and 
all  other  modes  of  torture  for  the  conscientious  Northerner,  who 
dared  to  assert  that  slavery  was  a  sin,  or  was  not  a  God-given  insti- 
tution, were  to  take  body  and  form. 

Carriages  began     to    arrive,    containing    the    freeholders,    the 
wealthy,  the  respectable  citizen.     The  meagre,  the  plump,  the   cor- 


368  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK  JUNE. 

pulent,  the  rubicund,  the  white-haired,  the  impetuous  youth,  the 
fire-eater,  the  white-cravated  clergyman,  were  there  to  give  tone  to 
the  affair  in  hand. 

The  discretion  of  freeholders  was  to  take  the  place  of  law  and 
justice ;  a  motley  collection  prowled  around  the  miserable  prison 
holding  their  prey.  Coachmen  turned  equipages  aside,  and  sat 
waiting  on  their  boxes.  The  jailer,  a  pliant  tool  of  power,  neither 
able  to  read  nor  write,  clad  in  rent,  slovenly  garmens,  and  a  half- 
rimless  straw  hat,  beneath  which  his  coarse,  frowzy  hair  straggled 
about  his  stolid  face,  stood  ready  at  the  chain  and  padlock  of  the 
old  door. 

The  arrival  of  the  respectable  freeholders  called  forth  oaths, 
cheers  and  curses  from  the  rabid  crew  awaiting  them.  They  cried 
out  for  blood.  Nothing  less  would  satisfy  their  debased  subser- 
viency to  the  distinguished  oligarchy  of  gentlemen  present. 

One  of  the  leading  class,  of  middle  age,  and  high  bred,  bulky 
figure,  closely  followed  by  his  black  footman,  stepped  upon  the 
horse-block  near,  waved  his  gloved  hand  to  the  ranting  mob,  and 
demanded  silence.  He  wore  the  air  of  a  monarch  inflated  with 
hereditary  pride. 

In  the  crowd,  obedience  was  instinctive.  The  gentleman  was 
well  known  as  the  richest  slave-holder  in  the  city,  the  owner  of  the 
fastest  horses  and  the  oldest  liquors,  as  the  hardest  master,  as  the 
most  profane  and  leading  member  of  the  richest  church. 

"  Bring  out  the  infernal  thieves  !  "  he  roared  to  the  jailor.  The 
key  turned,  the  chain  rattled,  the  rickety  door  scraped  backwards 
on  the  filthy  floor.  Out  into  the  sunlight,  emerged  two  men  ;  one, 
tall  and  feeble,  dressed  in  a  coarse  suit  of  butternut;  the  other, 
younger,  dressed  in  fashion  and  taste.  The  garments  of  both  bore 
marks  of  violent  struggles,  being  grossly  soiled,  spattered  with  mud 
and  begrimmed  with  dust. 

"  Advance  before  your  judge  and  jury,  ye  thieves  !  ye  disturbers 
of  our  peace  !  "  thundered  from  the  horse-block. 

Some  distance  intervened  between  the  jail  door  and  the  rostrum, 
around  which  citizens  of  influence  were  assembled. 

The  prisoners  were  hand-cuffed  so  closely  that  their  wrists  were 
painfully  swollen  ;  as  they  moved  forward  through  the  shrieking 
mob,  it  appeared  doubtful  whether  they  would  reach  the  august  fo- 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  369 

rum,  alive.     Kicks  and  cuffs  assailed  them  on  every  side.     Boys 
and   men  in  rags  spit  upon  tlieir  faces.      Shouts  of  "  Hang  them  ! ' 
"  Burn  the  cussed  pilgrims  !  "     "  Felony  and  death  !  "  assailed  their 
progress  to  the  dismal  block.  " 

This  autocrat  of  the  mob  again  commanded  silence  and  was 
again  obeyed.  He  addressed  the  victims  consequentially,  mean- 
while dallying  complacently  with  his  fob-chain  and  seals,  remov- 
ing his  smoking  Havana  from  his  lips,  between  the  fingers  of  his 
ungloved  hand. 

"  You  miscreants,  who  now  stand  before  us,  know  as  well,  and 
better  than  we,  of  what  crimes  you  are  accused.  In  the  second 
place  you  are  partizans  of  those  Northern  intriguers  and  agitators, 
who  interfere  with  our  domestic  safety,  under  the  canting  hypocriti- 
cal pretensions  of  levelling  the  superior  white  race  to  one  infernal 
brotherhood  with  Niggers,  Indians,  Chinese  or  any  other  barbarous 
foreign  progeny.  In  the  third  count,  you  are  suspected  of  decoying 
away  from  their  owners,  and  this  State,  three  slaves  j  two  prime, 
stout,  black  fellows,  and  a  bright  colored  wench,  whom,  doubtless, 
you  would  call  w^hite.  You  have  thus  stolen  property  to  the  amount 
of  three  thousand  dollars.  The  proper  punishment  for  these  dia- 
bolical purposes  will  soon  be  decided.  Your  nefarious  guilt  is  suf- 
ficiently proven  by  your  escape  from  the  ofiicers  at  Alton.  That 
city  hides  no  fugitives ;  you  have  been  brought  back  for  justice." 

The  younger,  on  whose  weary  face  yet  rested  some  hope,  raised 
his  manacled  hands  to  his  forehead,  wiped  the  drops  of  agony 
away,  cleared  his  voice,  looked  up  to  the  frowning  speaker,  and  out 
upon  the  crowd. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "I  claim  the  right  of  an  American  Free- 
man ;  the  liberty  of  speech,  to  show  you  why  this  proceeding  should 
go  no  farther." 

"  Defiant  braggart,  silence  !  you  are  in  Missouri !  Submission 
and  Death  is  the  legal  penalty  for  abolition  partizans  !  " 

Hope  was  already  extinguished  in  the  pale  features  of  the  older 
one ;  and  now,  the  hitherto  untamed  eyes  of  the  younger,  who  had 
so  nobly  demanded  his  American  birthright,  fell  to  the  ground. 
Incredulous  hope  changed  to  diwib  despair. 

He  of  the  tribune,  turned  to  the  respectable  citizens  about  him 
and  asked  for  a  decision  of  their  fate.     Ferocious  demands  poured 


SJO  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

forth  like  rattling  hail,  both  from  the  base-born  and  influential  sec- 
tions of  the  rioters. 

"  Hanging !  "  "  Whipping  !  "  "  Hemp  !  "  "  The  lash  !  "  "  The 
ropes  end  !  "  "Let  'em  swing !  "  "No,  two  hundred  lashes  !  "  and 
oaths  in  every  conceivable  phase  of  the  English  tongue,  were  so 
commingled  that  he  of  the  horse-block  was  like  a  rudderless  keel 
borne  down  by  the  swoop  of  a  typhoon.  It  was  necessary  to  take 
a  vote  by  actual  count. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  cried,  extending  his  gloved  hand  again,  over 
their  heads  "  Gentlemen,  please  divide,  that  there  may  be  no  mis- 
take as  to  sentiment  Gentlemen  in  favor  of  hanging,  on  the  right! 
Gentlemen  in  favor  of  whipping,  on  the  left  !  " 

Great  was  the  hurry-scurry  in  passing  from  side  to  side.  Servants 
in  the  mc/ee,  following  close  upon  the  heels  of  their  masters,  seemed 
to  have  been  suddenly  dowered  with  the  gift  of  franchise. 

The  stormy  curses  of  the  advocates  of  either  sentence,  swelled 
into  the  habitual  ribald  profanity  of  the  lower  mob,  as  they  swayed 
oif  the  ground  of  the  higher. 

The  teller  passed  through.  He  announced  twent3Mhree,  on  the 
right,  for  hanging ;  and  thirty-eight,  on  the  left,  for  whipping. 

The  place  for  execution  of  sentence  was  /zc/^  miles  from  town,  in 
a  grove.  The  voice  from  the  horse-block  gave  concluding  orders 
for  the  moving  of  the  procession. 

"  Officers  will  mount  and  guard  the  prisoners  to  the  place  desig- 
nated. Gentlemen  will  please  enter  carriages  and  repair  thither, 
immediately." 

There  were  various  instruments  of  torture  in  the  old  jail,  for 
St.  Louis  was  fully  up  with  her  sister  Southern  cities.  Among 
these,  were  the  enormous  long,  black  whip,  which  coiled  like  a  ser- 
pent, and  gashed  the  human  form  with  greedy  voracity.  There 
was  the  cat,  with  knotted  lashes,  which  fell  upon  the  naked  body, 
like  a  shower  of  fire.  There  was  the  paddle,  a  narrow  board  per- 
forated with  holes  w^hich  bruised  and  blistered,  scarcely  breaking 
the  skin.  There  was  the  cowhide,  braided  with  fine  wire  which 
tore  and  hetchelled  its  gory  way.  There  was  also  the  heavy  leather 
strap,  giving  the  combined  effect  of  paddle  and  lash.  This  resem- 
bled the  Russian  knout,  and  w-as  the  one  selected  for  this  occa- 
sion. 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  37 1 

Several  of  these  straps,  heavy  as  harness  traces,  with  a  couple  of 
black  whips  and  some  coils  of  rope,  were  thrown  by  the  jailer 
under  the  coachman's  boxes. 

The  two  prisoners  were  compelled  to  march  between  the 
mounted  guards.  They  were  followed,  on  foot,  by  the  vulgar, 
blood-thirsty  herd  around  the  jail,  which  swelled  to  twice  its  howl- 
ing proportions  along  the  route  to  the  grove. 

The  elegant  carriages  and  prancing  horses  of  the  clergy,  and  the 
aristocratic  and  respectable  citizens,  led  the  van. 

The  day  was  entrancing.  The  sky  of  transparent  blue,  with  the 
exception  of  a  few  w^hite,  downy  masses,  sailing  slowly  over  the 
unhallowed  sight,  like  celestial  spirits,  wondering  at  man's  inhu- 
manity to  man. 

Towards  the  blue  vault,  the  older  prisoner  frequently  raised  his 
despairing  face ;  a  few  tears  gathered  and  rolled  upon  his  painful 
and  purple  hands. 

In  the  grove,  two  trees  were  soon  selected.  The  men  were 
about  to  be  stripped,  when  the  elder  raised  his  manacles  and 
said, — 

"  Men  of  Missouri,  hear  me  !  We  are  brothers  from  New 
England,  honest  tillers  of  the  soil  of  our  fathers  — " 

"  A  curse  upon  your  fathers  !"  ejaculated  Colonel  Ashland,  who 
had  ridden  with  his  host  to  the  grove  and  now  stood  near  them, 
"  and  a  curse  upon  the  laborers  of  the  North."  Infuriated,  he  con- 
tinued, "  South  Carolina's  governer  says,  '  they  are  incapable  of 
understanding  or  enjoying  freedom  ;  and  that  free  laborers  must 
be  reduced  to  slavery,  or  the  la\v3  cannot  be  maintained.'  This  is 
McDuffie's  opinion  ;  the  legislature  concurs.  If  you  ever  live  to 
get  out  of  this  alive^  do  not  go  to  my  State,  with  your  simhurned, 
77iulatto  face  and  hands,  or  you  may  expect  to  be  sold  at  auction 
to  the  highest  bidder.  Take  the  nigger's  lash  to-day;  that  will 
answer  for  the  present." 

The  two  men  were  stripped  by  slaves,  and  bound  each  to  a  tree. 
The  gray-haired  physician,  who  had  so  tenderly  administered  to 
Madame  Lambelle,  drew  near,  in  order  to  test  their  fainting  pulses 
from  time  to  time ;  and  to  extend  the  imperiling  ordeal  to  the 
utmost  verge  of  their  endurance. 

The  influential  church-going  citizens,  sixty  in  number,  arranged 


372  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

themselves  in  a  line,  and  moved  slowly  on.  Each  took  the  whip  or 
strap  in  turn,  and  gave  two  blows  as  he  passed,  on  the  naked  backs 
of  their  victims. 

Long,  piercing  screams  of  agony  rang  up  among  the  leafy  arches, 
and  wandered  through  the  sunny  glades.  That  was  music  to- the 
savage  horde.  The  sickening  thud  of  stroke  after  stroke,  fell  upon 
the  ear  with  military  precision.  At  length  their  cries  ceased  ;  dull, 
heavy  groans  succeeded. 

Fiendish  eyes  were  glutted  with  the  sight  of  Northern  blood. 
Red  streams  dripped  from  the  torn  backs  of  both  the  helpless  men, 
in  a  pool  at  their  feet.  The  gentlemen  whippers  paused  from 
fatigue,  and  almost  satiety.  The  doctor  advanced  and  made  an 
examination  of  each.  One  hundred  lashes  had  been  given,  and  life 
still  remained. 

Footmen  brought  flasks  of  brandy  from  the  carriages,  for  the 
gentlemen,  while  the  lower  rabble  drank  from  bottles  in  their 
pockets.  Cigars  and  pipes  were  lighted.  A  warm,  social  glow 
of  satisfaction  pervaded  the  grove.  Southern  honor  was  receiving 
vindication. 

Two  more  bloody  stones  were  ready  to  be  cast  upon  the  un- 
sightly cairns  of  State  Rights,  already  overtopping  arsenels,  church 
edifices,  and  even  the  dome  of  the  National  Capitol. 

By  the  medical  opinion  of  the  doctor,  the  elder  was  unbound 
from  the  tree  and  laid  senseless  upon  the  leaves  and  grass  hard  by. 
The  shock  of  measured  lashes  might  drive  out  the  fluttering  soul 
from  the  mangled  body. 

The  barbarous  crew  howled  for  more  blood,  and  fifty  lashes 
more  for  the  younger  prisoner  were  granted  to  their  rapacity. 

The  gentlemen  had  been  refreshed,  and  the  line  was  again 
formed.  Colonel  Ashland  was  in  this  column  as  in  the  first,  that, 
as  he  said,  "  he  might  give  the  damned  Yankees  a  taste  of  South 
Carolina."  Clergymen  were  in  this  round,  and  went  back  to  their 
studies  with  blood  spatters  sealing  their  loyalty  to  Moses  and  the 
Constitution. 

At  last,  all  was  over ;  the  two  mangled  and  bloody  bodies  were 
again  hand-cuffed,  thrown  into  a  mule  cart,  and  dragged  back 
more  dead  than  alive,  to  the  jail  in  the  city. 

One   charity  was  extended  to  them.     They  had  permission  to 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK  JUNE.  373 

remain  in  the  State  one  week  under  the  surveillance  of  the  half- 
human  jailer,  and  to  have  the  advice  of  a  physician,  if  they  should 
defray  their  own  expenses.  .  . 

The  next  day  a  public  meeting  was  held  of  the  leadmg  citizens. 
The  concourse  was  unprecedented.  The  rostrum  was  festooned 
with  the  "Stars  and  Stripes."  From  a  line  stretched  across  the 
street,  our  National  banner  waved  over  the  happy  throng,  giving 
eclat  to  the  success  of  the  previous  day.  Beauty  and  fashion  lent 
brilliancy  to  the  occasion. 

General  Terreceine  filled  the  honorable  seat  of  chairman,  with 
an  inposing  array  of  secretaries  and  vice-presidents.  Among  the 
speakers  were  numbered  the  South  Carolinians. 

The  ground  of  Southern  complaint  was  reviewed.  The  growing 
evil  of  Fanaticism  ;  interference  with  social  relations  ;  the  state  of 
Northern,  Western  and  Southern  cities ;  and  how  far  the  controll- 
ing influence  of  Southern  interests  moulded  their  general  senti- 
ment—  were  forcibly  presented  and  debated. 

The  course  of  future  action  was  resolved  upon.  Resolutions  in 
Congress  and  out  of  it;  salutary  warnings  to  agitators,  by  death 
or  imprisonment  —  or  as  warm  a  welcome  as  was  given  to  the 
two  thieves  in  the  grove,  were  considered. 

At  this  juncture,  the  director  and  judge  in  the  "whipping  '  was 
called  to  the  stand.  In  a  high  flight  of  oratory  he  recounted  the 
harrowing  particulars  and  ultimate  success.  Red  in  the  face,  and 
covered  with  perspiration,  he  was  overwhelmed  with  tumultuous 
cheers.  The  audience  rose  in  his  honor.  Fair  ladies  waved  lace 
handkerchiefs,  dispensed  sweet  smiles,  and  nodded  congratulations 
to  friends  in  various  parts  of  the  room. 

Quiet  again  restored,  an  Alabamian,  in  a  heated  speech,  fiercely 
deprecated  the  issue  of  seditious  matter.  Printing  presses  came 
under  ban.     Presses  and  offices  should  be  demolished. 

He  extolled  the  course  of  Alabama,  Kentucky  and  the  city  of 
Cincinnati,  towards  the  recreant  Southerner,  J.  G.  Birney.  _  He  re- 
lated the  manner  in  which  the  disseminator  of  his  doctrines  had 
been  silenced.  Called  upon  all  Southerners  to  imitate  the  planters 
of  Danville,  who  held  a  mass  meeting  and  afterward  wrote  Mr. 
Birney  to  beware  of  issuing  the  first  number  of  his  insurrectionary 
sheet,' villainously  styled  "The  Philanthropist." 


374  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK  JUNE. 

"J.  G.  Birney,"  he  said,  "was  driven  out  by  the  strong  will  of 
the  people.  He  took  his  press  to  a  Free  State — to  Cincinnati. 
He  dare  not  set  a  type  there.  True  to  their  Constitutional  Con- 
vention, the  citizens  would  not  allow  him  to  tamper  with  national 
Institutions.  Thus  was  he  driven  out  again  to  the  Quakers  at 
New  Richmond  for  a  short  rest.  Thence,  returning  to  Cincinnati 
to  make  another  venture,  when,  true  in  action  as  in  thought,  the 
'gentlemen  of  property  and  standing'  in  that  city,  resolv^ed  to  sup- 
press him  and  his  sheet,  7'ight  or  wrofig,  peaceably  or  forcibly^  there- 
fore it  was  done.  The  printing  press  of  the  infatuated  reprobate 
was  hurled  to  the  bottom  of  the  Ohio." 

Long  and  loud  cheering  was  renewed. 

The  chairman  next  had  the  pleasure  of  introducing  Major  Den- 
telle  of  Georgia.  His  theme  was  the  discipline  which  should 
impend  over  the  heads  of  direlect  sons  of  the  South,  those  born  to 
the  patrimony  of  slavery,  who  should  so  far  forget  ancestral  blood 
and  moral  obligations,  as  to  join  the  ranks  of  the  hard-fisted 
laborers  and  fanatics  of  the  North.  His  opinion  was,  that  *'  they 
should  receive  naught  but  ignominy  and  contempt."  That  the 
names  of  such  men  should  be  expunged  from  the  roll  of  every 
Southern  office  of  emolument  and  Southern  honor ;  that  they 
should  be  expelled  from  official  boards  \  commercial  and  charita- 
ble, or  educational. 

Cries  of  "  Hear  !  hear  !  hear  !  " 

"  Do  in  every  case  as  Alabama  did,  when  the  superior  court 
struck  from  the  roll  of  her  attorneys  practicing  at  her  bar,  the 
odious  name  of  Birney.  They  should  be  driven  from  the  South 
with  the  mark  of  Cain  upon  them  to  seek  refuge  and  a  name  else- 
where, among  the  base-born  of  their  own  ilk.  Never  the  chiv- 
alrous blood  of  knightly  ages  coursed  in  their  veins.  Let  the  vam- 
pires go  out ;  they  are  notof  us." 

"  Drive  them  out !  "  "  The  vampire  blood  !  "  "  Drive  them 
out !  "  "  Expunge  !  "  "  Expel !  "  encouraged  the  Georgian  on 
every  side. 

The  ladies  approved ;  the  festooned  flags  even  tugged  loyally  at 
their  fastenings,  in  the  patriotic  breeze.  Evidently,  other  sugges- 
tions weighed  upon  the  speaker's  mind,  for  he  still  remained  stand- 
ing, bowing  and  smiling  amid  the  agreeable  tempest. 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  375 

General  Terreceine,  perceiving  the  dilemma,  rose  from  his  offi- 
cial chair,  thanked  the  assembly  for  their  enthusiasm,  and  made  a 
complimentary  request  that  they  would  listen  farther.  The  dis- 
tinguished gentlemen  before  them  represented  a  State  which  had 
shown  the  valuable  quality  of  her  blood  and  pluck  as  far  back  as 
the  outburst  of  American  Independence,  and  the  framing  of  the 
Constitution. 

"  The  hand  writing  of  Georgia  and  South  Carolina,"  he  said 
"still  glowed  in  flaming  characters  on  the  face  of  that  charter  of 
Southern  liberties.  By  their  inflexible  resistance  to  the  eleven 
other  States,  and  by  their  adamantine  refusal  to  confederate,  unless 
upon  terms  which  should  foster  the  growth  of  slavery,  they  secured 
to  themselves,  to  us,  and  to  our  posterity,  the  franchise  of  three-fifths 
of  the  black  chattels  we  merchandise.  This  singular  franchise  is 
under  our  control,  as  you  well  know,  gentlemen.  This  negro  sif- 
frage^  i?i  the  hands  of  the  7naster^  is  the  masked  battery  of  our  civil  de- 
fense. 

"  Georgia  and  South  Carolina,  secured  also  twenty  years  of  the 
African  slave  trade,  and  by  the  former  provisions,  three ffths  of 
the  living  cargo  of  every  slaver  landed  on  our  shores,  became 
sturdy  suffrage  plants  in  our  political  nursery,  in  casting  votes, 
opposed  with  equal  quality  and  force,  to  as  many  suffrages  of 
boasted  Northern  intelligence.  They  secured  also,  the  rendition 
of  our  slave  property  by  the  Free  States,  whenever  it  may  escape 
thereto.  Whatever,  therefore,  secured  the  stability  of  slavery  in 
the  Constitution,  was  mainly  graven  there  by  the  inexorable  de- 
mands of  Georgia  and  South  Carolina,  by  forcing  compromises 
and  concessions  from  the  shrinking  and  cowardly  religious  senti- 
ment of  the  other  States." 

Instead  of  restoring  quiet,  the  chairman's  short  address  called 
up  enthusiasm  to  its  highest  pitch.  They  came  to  their  feet,  en 
masse,  as  if  in  the  very  presence  of  the  genius  of  Southern  liberty. 
Rounds  of  applause  within  and  without,  where  the  words  of  Gen- 
eral Terreceine  had  been  heard,  testified  to  the  hearty  apprecia- 
tion of  the  two  States,  which  had  so  cunningly  moulded  Southern 
destiny. 

They  demanded  Dentelle  ;  they  would  have  borne  him  in  triumph 


376  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

on  their  shoulders ;  they  would  have  drawn  his  carriage  to  the 
house  of  his  host. 

Dentelle,  repressing  the  marks  of  especial  favor,  remained  con- 
stantly bowing  acknowledgment. 

The  desired  calm  was  greatly  assisted  by  a  new  arrival  within  the 
hall.  A  lady  of  elegant  presence  leaning  on  the  arm  of  the  Rev. 
Warham,  a  stranger  also,  and  accompanied  by  Madame  Terreceine, 
moved  across  the  crowded  floor,  to  one  of  the  many  proffered  seats. 
A  chivalrous  greeting  of  tender  and  delicate  admiration  met  her 
every  step. 

Dentelle  proffered  his  deepest  reverence  as  madame  passed. 
Her  companions  appeared  wholly  engrossed  in  the  care  of  their 
precious  charge,  a  little  whiter,  a  trifle  more  ethereal,  but  wearing 
the  same  pure,  noble,  and  enchanting  air  as  before. 

"  What  a  singular,  but  exquisite  taste  that  lady  displays,"  said 
one  lady  to  another. 

"  She  has  the  choice  of  a  princess,"  was  the  reply. 

Zafhri  wore  a  brocade  silk  of  the  same  pale  wheaten  color  of  her 
hair,  sprinkled  over  with  oak  leases  wrought  in  brilliant,  shaded, 
autumnal  hues,  over  which  drifted  the  frost-work  of  an  embroidered 
white  lace  shawl.  Her  bonnet,  a  marvel  of  taste,  was  of  white  Ital- 
ian straw,  surrounded  with  a  wreath  of  oak  leaves  of  the  same  hue 
of  her  dress,  with  a  small  bunch  of  leaves  and  acorns  dropping  to 
her  shoulder,  like  a  plume. 

The  curiosity  and  interest  of  the  assembly  in  the  fair  stranger, 
for  a  time,  calmed  excited  passion. 

The  committee,  which  had  been  appointed  to  draft  resolutions, 
returned.  Colonel  Ashland  was  among  the  number.  In  honor  of 
the  leadership  of  South  Carolina,  he  was  made  chairman.  This 
complimentary  position  he  filled  with  eclat^  by  shaping  and  insist- 
ing upon  the  third  resolution. 

The  first  half  of  the  second  resolution  is  sufficient  to  be  given 
here. 

Second.  ^''Resolved,  That  the  right  of  free  discussion  and  freedom 
of  speech,  exists  under  the  Constitution  ;  but  that,  being  a  conven- 
tional reservation  made  by  the  people  in  their  sovereign  capacity, 
does  not  imply  a  moral  right  on  the  part  of  the  abolitionists  to 


WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK  JUNE.  377 

freely  discuss  the  subject  of  slavery,  either  orally  or  throttgh  the 
medium  of  the  press. ''^ 

Third.  "  Resolved^  That  we  consider  the  course  pursued  by  the 
abolitionists  as  one  calculated  to  paralyze  every  social  tie  by  which 
we  are  now  united  to  our  fellow  man,  and  that,  if  persisted  in,  it 
must  eventually  be  the  cause  of  the  disseverment  of  these  United 
States ;  and  that  the  doctrine  of  amalgamation  is  peculiarly  ba?ieful 
to  the  interests  and  happiness  of  society.  The  union  of  black  and 
white,  in  a  moral  point  of  view,  we  consider  as  the  most  preposterous 
and  impudent  doctri?te  advanced  by  the  infatuated  abolitionist,  as 
repugnant  to  judgment  and  science  as  it  is  degrading  to  the  feel- 
ings of  all  sensitive  minds ;  as  destructive  to  the  intellect  of  after 
generations,  as  the  advancement  of  science  and  literature  has  con- 
tributed to  the  improvement  of  our  own.  In  short,  its  practice 
would  reduce  the  high  intellectual  standard  of  the  American  mind 
to  a  level  with  the  Hottentot ;  and  the  United  States,  now  second  to 
no  nation  on  earth,  would,  in  a  few  years,  be  what  Europe  was  in 
the  darkest  ages." 

Fourth.  '■'•  Resolved^  That  the  Sacred  "Writings  furnish  abundant 
evidence  of  the  existence  of  slavery  from  the  earliest  periods.  The 
patriarchs  and  prophets  possessed  slaves ;  our  Savior  recognized 
the  relation  between  master  and  slave,  and  deprecated  it  not ; 
hence,  we  know  that  he  did  not  condemn  that  relation.  On  the 
contrary,  his  disciples,  in  all  countries,  designated  their  respective 
duties  to  each  other." 

"  Therefore,  resolved.  That  we  consider  slavery  as  it  now  exists 
in  the  United  States  as  sanctioned  by  the  Sacred  Scriptures." 

These  resolutions  were  submitted  to  the  audience,  and  passed  by 
acclamation.  It  will  be  seen  that  they  were  but  the  reiteration  of 
general  private  sentiment,  the  embodiment  of  social  conversation 
in  the  evening  saloon,  in  the  formal  call,  at  the  conventional  dinner, 
on  the  promenade,  in  the  hotel,  the  family,  the  shop,  and  wherever 
men  do  congregate.  But  private  sentiment  in  the  form  of  public  res- 
olutions, becomes  official.  The  presses  which  should  publish  them  to 
the  world,  were  not  to  be  cast  into  the  waters  of  the  Mississippi  or 
Ohio.  So  they  went  forth  on  the  wings  of  the  morrow,  throughout 
the  land. 


378  WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

Many  a  congratulation  did  Colonel  Ashland  receive  for  the  wis- 
dom and  truth  of  the  tJiird  resolve.  The  ladies,  especially,  regarded 
him  as  the  knight  of  much  domestic  affliction.  Undoubtedly,  blue 
blood  animated  his  perceptions ;  undoubtedly,  a  hereditary  moral 
sense  moved  the  South  Carolinian  to  warn  his  countrymen  against 
reducing  "  the  high  intellectual  standard  of  Atnerican  7tiind  to  a  level 
with  the  Hottentot  I " 

Madame  Lambelle  expressed  pleasure  in  being  able  to  witness 
the  proceedings,  and  declared, — 

*'The  resolutions  evinced  a  clear  understanding  of  the  situation  ; 
their  adaptation  to  the  times  was  most  remarkable !  " 

In  passing  out,  she  rallied  General  Terreceine's  partiality  to 
Georgia  and  South  Carolina,  and  yet  she  affirmed  that  "  every 
word  of  his  eulogium  was  charmingly  chosen  ;  they  would  remain 
forever,  diamond  points  of  truth." 

She  added  archly  at  parting, — 

"  Ah  1  why  am  /not  a  Carolinian,  also  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XX. 

RICHARD  and  Fanny  were  on  their  way  to  West  Elms,  in  x. 
freshness  of  a  summer  morning.  A  dreamy  quiet  rested  on 
the  woods  and  fields.  The  ranges  of  hills  and  mountains  that 
stretched  around  the  horizon,  were  veiled  in  a  faint  violet  haze  ; 
their  lovely  serenity  was  reflected  from  the  faces  of  both  travelers. 
Profound  content  and  curiosity  hovered  about  the  short  ears  of  the 
dappled  gray,  as  he  took  his  own  gait,  walking  up  the  hill,  trotting 
off  briskly,  or  halting  in  the  cool  patches  of  shade. 
-  A  few  miles  ride  from  Alderbank  showed  them  the  roofs  and 
spires  of  East  Elms.  The  town,  crowning  the  highlands,  and 
bathed  in  sunshine,  overlooked  a  misty  valley.  Beyond  the  fur- 
ther shore  of  a  shining  river,  the  lowlands  rolled  out  into  velvety 
meadows,  well-fenced  farms,  dotted  with  white,  cosy  houses,  and 
tufted  with  orchards. 

It  was  a  scene  to  rivet  attention  and  challenge  admiration.     Two 
mountain  peaks  raised  their  majestic  shoulders  in  the  gray  distance 


WHITE  MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  379 

of  the  north,  and  the  broad,  shining  river,  spun  to  a  golden  thread 
among  rolling  hills  and  vales,  lost  itself  in  a  soft  perspective  on  the 
south.  Both  brother  and  sister  felt  the  sweet  spell  which  Nature 
throws  so  deftly  over  spirits  in  harmony  with  her  moods. 

Although  the  scenes  were  familiar,  they  received  a  glad  recogni- 
tion. The  chaise  drew  up  under  the  shade  of  a  tree,  whose 
branches  offered  no  obstruction  to  the  view. 

"Let  us  sit  awhile,  Fanny,"  said  Richard,  "and  take  a  fresh 
baptism  of  the  grandeur,  serenity  and  beauty  about  us.  Such 
scenes  inspire  ^  a  power  of  thought,  and  a  loftiness  of  sentiment' 
that  are  scarcely  to  be  derived  from  any  other  source,  in  this  work- 
day world  of  ours." 

"  No  truer  words  were  ever  spoken,  Richard  :  and  in  halting 
here,  you  have  anticipated  my  unexpressed  desire.  Nature  holds 
a  mystic  sway  over  the  emotions.  Whenever  I  contemplate  this, 
or  similar  scenes,  a  deep  joy  invades  my  whole  being.  A  calm 
tide  of  peace  flows  gently,  over  every  selfish  and  malignant  feeling. 
I  am  speechless  with  rapture  ;  my  aspirations  seem  raised  above 
groveling  things,  and  poise  themselves  on  heroic  wings." 

"  What  harm  can  come  of  that,  Fanny  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  sure,  Richard.  To  be  a  dreamer,  or  weak  enthusiast, 
may  not  be  termed  consistent  with  a  Christian  character." 

''  Your  doubts  will  bear  criticism,  not  your  enthusiam,  dear  sis- 
ter. A  strong  love  of  Nature  —  a  susceptibility  of  being  moved  in 
its  majestic  presence,  is  a  fine  foundation  for  a  Christian  character. 
Bryant  says  of  Him  who  created  Nature, — 

'  Thou  hast  not  left 
Thyself  without  a  witness,  in  these  shades 
•     Of  thy  perfections.     Grandeur,  strength  and  grace. 
Are  here  to  speak  of  Thee,' 

"  Furthermore,  he  says, — 

The  groves  Were  God's  first  temples.     Ere  man  learned 

To  hew  the  shaft,  and  lay  the  architrave, 

And  Spread  the  roof  above  them, —  ere  he  framed 

The  lofty  vault,  to  gather  and  roll  back 

The  sound  of  anthems. —  in  the  darkling  wood, 

Amid  the  cool  and  silence,  he  knelt  down 

And  offered  to  the  Mightiest,  solemn  thanks 

And  supplication.' 


380  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  Now  Fanny,  mark  the  reason  why. 

'  For  his  simple  heart 
Might  not  resist  the  sacred  influences, 
That,  from  the  stilly  twilight  of  the  place. 
And  from  the  gray,  old  trunks,  that  high  in  heaven," 
Mingled  their  mossy  boughs,  and  from  the  sound 
Of  the  invisible  breath,  that  swayed  at  once 
All  their  green  tops,  stole  over  him,  and  bow'd 
His  spirit  with  the  thought  of  boundless  power 
And  inaccessible  majest\'.     Ah  !  why 
Should  we,  in  the  world's  riper  years,  neglect 
God's  ancient  sanctuaries,  and  adore 
Only  among  the  crowd,  and  under  roofs 
That  our  frail  hands  have  raised  ? '  " 

"  How  beautiful  !  "  exclaimed  Fanny.  "  What  an  antidote  to 
worldliness  is  the  simple  hearing  of  these  words.  Yet  how  much 
more  elevating  would  be  the  holy  tranquility  of  the  reality.  The 
scenes  of  Nature  seem  to  me  conducive  to  the  purest  devotion  the 
heart  can  offer." 

"Doubtless  it  is  the  purest  devotion  one  can  offer  to  the  great 
Creator,  in  the  midst  of  His  works,  as  sweet  to  Him  as  the  breath 
of  an  infant  to  its  mother.  To  a  lively  imagination  and  poetical 
fancy,  this  worship  is  almost  spontaneous.  But  I  imagine  it  is  not 
the  grandest  or  most  acceptable  devotion  that  can  be  offered  to 
the  great  Searcher  of  hearts." 

*'  Explain  this  grandest  and  most  acceptable  devotion,  Richard." 

"  It  is  that  which  requires  an  effort  of  the  will.  It  is  the  rising 
above  the  allurements  of  social  position,  above  the  blandishments 
of  selfish  affections,  the  trampling  under  foot  the  false  ideas  and 
the  false  customs  of  communities,  to  advocate  truth,  eternal  truth, 
even  to  the  martyrdom  of  all  one  holds  dear  on  earth.  To  you 
and  me  Fanny,  this  truth  is  being  gradually  revealed.  It  is  this 
devotion  which  you  are  earnestly  seeking  after ;  and  for  which  your 
soul  thirsts." 

"  Shall  I  ever  attain  to  the  honor  of  a  martyr  ? " 

Her  eyes  glowed  with  incipient  heroism. 

"  Probably  not  at  the  burning  stake,  my  sister  ;  but  in  due  time, 
when  you  shall  be  held  responsible  for  your  sentiments  and  utter- 
ances, you  will  find  at  the  hands  of  debased,  antiquated  and  hardened 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  38 1 

public  opinion,  sufficient  martyrdom:'  He  continued.  "  Foster,  then, 
this  ardent  love  for  Nature,  and  the  pure  devotion  it  inspires.  When- 
ever you  shall  turn  away  with  disgust  from  the  weak  inconsistency 
or  thoughtless  obstinacy  of  human  nature,  its  insiduous  power  will 
distill  strength  to  hope,  and  faith  to  endure.  It  will  be  manna  to 
your  soul.  Even  the  voluptuous  'Lord  Byron'  was  recalled  to 
thoughtful  regret  for  his  past  by  the  calm  waters  of  a  lake.  Hear, 
Fanny. 

'  Clear,  placid  Leman  !  thy  contrasted  lake 

With  the  wide  world  I've  dwelt  in,  is  a  thing, 
Which  warns  me  with  its  stillness,  to  forsake 
Earth's  troubled  waters,  for  a  purer  spring. 

thy  soft  murmuring 
Sounds  sweet,  as  if  a  sister's  voice  reproved 
That  I  with  stern  delights,  should  e'er  have  been  so  moved.' " 

"  You  know  Richard,  I  love  more  than  groves  and  placid  lakes. 
I  am  more  deeply  and  solemnly  impressed  with  giant  mountains, 
rugged  cliffs,  frowning  precipices,  ample,  unplowed  solitudes,  and 
deep  sequestered  valleys." 

"  You  revere  the  mountains  and  their  accompaniments,  because 
they  proclaim  liberty.  They  whisper  to  your  mind  universal  free- 
dom. The  dwellers  among  mountains  ever  exhibit  a  kingly  intre- 
pidity against  oppression.  Repeat  Fanny,  the  words  of  '  Byrant,' 
on  your  favorite,'  William  Tell.'  " 

Her  gaze  turned  to  lofty  northern  peaks,  alternately  frowning  in 
cloud  shadows,  and  brightening  in  the  sun.  Exalted  by  the  con- 
templation, her  voice  thrilled  with  the  sentiment  of  the  poem. 

"  Chains  may  subdue  the  feeble  spirit,  but  thee, 
'Tell,'  of  the  iron  heart !  they  could  not  tame  ! 
For  thou  wert  of  the  mountains  ;  they  proclaim 

The  everlasting  creed  of  liberty. 

That  creed  is  written  on  the  untrampled  snow. 
Thundered  by  torrents  which  no  power  can  hold, 
Save  that  of  God,  when  he  sends  forth  his  cold. 

And  breathed  by  winds  that  through  the  free  heaven  blow. 

Thou,  while  thy  prison  walls  were  dark  around, 
Didst  meditate  the  lesson  Nature  taught, 
And  to  thy  brief  captivity  was  brought 

A  vision  of  thy  Switzerland,  unbound.". 


382  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

Her  hands  were  joined,  and  extended  towards  the  mountains ; 
and  like  a  devotee  before  the  altar,  her  face  grew  divine.  She 
finished. 

"  The  bitter  cup  they  mingled,  strengthened  thee 
For  the  great  work  to  set  thy  country  free." 

She  turned  the  sublime  fervor  of  her  misty  eyes  upon  Richard. 
His  proud  smile  answered  them.     He  said, — 

"  Those  tears  are  more  valuable  than  pearls,  my  sister.  They 
express  an  indignant  sorrow  for  America  in  chains,  as  well  as  for 
Switzerland,  under  the  heel  of  Gessler.  Can  you  longer  doubt  the 
Christian  consistency  of  yielding  ourselves  to  the  grand  and  enno- 
bling influence  of  the  mystic  !ove  of  Nature  ?  " 

"  Alas !  Richard,  what  are  a  few  tears,  and  womaji's  tears,  at 
that  ? " 

"Do  you  remember  the  widow's  two  mites?" 

"Of  course,  Richard  ! "  with  a  tinge  of  impatience. 

"  Well,  you  also  remember  that  Christ  said  she  had  given  more 
than  they  all  —  more  than  the  rich  who  cast  in  their  abundance, 
because  she  offered  all  she  had.  Hush,  Fanny,  and  hear  me  out. 
Your  tears  are  all  you  have  to  offer  at  present.  Man  gives  sturdy 
blows  on  the  heated  iron  of  controversy  and  debate,  and  thus 
slowly  molds  the  destiny  of  nations.     Dr.  Channing  says, — 

^^  ^  Th^ro^  IS  constantly  going  on  in  our  world  a  conflict  between 
good  and  evil.  The  cause  of  human  nature  has  always  to  wrestle 
with  foes.     All  improvement  is  a  victory  won  by  struggles.' 

"  Your  woman's  hands  will  yet  be  summoned  to  the  conflict ; 
they  will  yet,  with  valorous  strength,  assist  in  the  struggles.  Be 
patient,  then,  be  patient." 

"  Iron  Grey's  head  is  turning  round  to  us  restlessly,  and  his  ears 
are  pointing  to  the  watering  trough  yonder.  I  will  be  content  with 
your  prophecy,"  said  Fanny,  pleasantly.     "Let  us  go  on." 

While  Iron  Grey's  nose  was  plunging  in  and  out  of  the  cool 
water  under  the  elms,  Richard  remarked  upon  the  cheerfulness 
and  thrift  of  the  town  about  them,  the  pleasant  homes  of  the  in- 
dustrious citizens,  the  busy  stores,  the  neatly  clad  children  of  all 
classes  wending  their  way  to  the  public  schools  ;  and  the  numerous 
church  spires  piercing  the  masses  of  green  foliage. 


WHITE  MAY,  AND   BLACK  JUNE."  ^  ;^S^ 

"This  is  a  cheerful  sight,  Fanny,"  he  said;  "and  il;  is  repeated 
in  every  Northern  town,  village  or  hamlet  —  wherever  the  free 
hand  of  labor  plies  its  skill.  A  general  comfort,  plenty  and  intel- 
ligence pervades  the  whole  North.  Honor  to  the  hardened  hand 
of  industry !  Honor  to  the  brow  wet  with  honest  sweat !  It  is 
the  coronet  of  true  nobility." 

"Richard,  you  are  "eloquent  on  the  industrious." 
"One  needs  be  eloquent,  when,  as  Mr.  Goodell    declared  before 
the  joint  committee  at  Boston,  when  he  charged  upon  the  South  '  a 
deep  and  foul  conspiracy  against  the  liberties  of  the  laboring  peo- 
ple of  the  North.'" 

"  What  '  joint  committee .? '  " 

"Why,  you  know  very  well.  Fanny — the  committee  of  the 
legislature,  to  which  was  referred  the  speech  of  Governor  Everett 
on  the  impertinent  demand  of  the  Southern  States,  that  the  non- 
slave-holding  States  should  suppress  liberty  of  speech ;  and  that 
they  should  make  it  highly  penal  to  print  or  publish  anti-slavery 
sentiments.  Mr.  Goodell  referred  to*  the  assertion  of  Governor 
McDuffiie  and  other  distinguished  gentlemen,,  that  *  the  laboring 
population  of  no  people  on  earth  are  entitled  to  liberty,  or  capable 
of  enjoying  it.'  " 

"  Preposterous  and  arrogant  idea,  that  the  laborers  of  the  North 
are  incapable  of  enjoying  freedom  !  and  not  being  entitled  to  lib- 
erty, should  be  reduced  to  slavery  !  Ah  !  what  depths  of  malig- 
nant barbarism  does  that  assertion  unveil !  Those  South  Carolinians 
not  only  enslave  a  race  they  term  inferior,  but  they  would  enslave 
the  North  as  well." 

"  Yes,  Fanny,  that  diabolical  assertion  includes  you  and  me  ;  for 
whoever  shapes  a  garment,  builds  a  fence,  plows  a  furrow,  knits  a 
stocking,  or  cooks  a  meal,  or  nurses  an  infant,  according  to  Gov- 
ernor McDuffie,  should  put  on  the  gyves  of  slavery  !  " 

They  were  near  the  smooth,  green  grounds  of  the  arsenal. 
"  Suppose  we  alight,  and  visit  the  interior.      Have  you  ever  ex- 
amined the  treasures  of  that  spacious  building  ? "  pointing  to  one 
in  the  inclosure. 

"  Never.     It  would  give  me  great  pleasure." 
"  Or  pain,  Fanny  .?  " 
"Or  pain,  Richard?" 


384  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK  JUNE. 

"  Certainly,  pain  that  a  Christian  nation  should  spend  so  much 
time  and  money,  fashioning  murderous  weapons  for  the  enforce- 
ment of  moral  obligations  —  obligations  which  our  Savior  subli- 
mated in  the  simple  words  of  the  'Golden  Rule.'" 

They  strolled  up  the  broad  flagging,  past  the  long  shops,  where 
at  open  windows  stood  working-men  in  aprons,  with  shirt  sleeves 
rolled  to  the  elbows,  manipulating  the  ingenious  steel  intricacies 
of  gun  making.  Fanny  made  her  own  observations.  She  was 
struck  with  the  general  manly  bearing  and  intellectual  faces  of  the 
busy  multitude.     Turning  to  Richard,  she  said  in  a  low  voice, — 

"  And  so  those  Southerners  would  reduce  these  men  to  bondage  ? 
to  a  level  with  the  brutal  condition  of  their  slaves  ?  Let  McDuffie 
stand  on  this  pavement  where  we  stand,  and  dare  to  assert  that 
they  'are  not  e?ititled  to  liberty,  7ior  are  capable  of  enjoying  it!^^^ 
With  a  gesture  of  indignation,  she  added, — 

"  He  might  well  tremble  for  his  fate  !  " 

"  I  am  glad  to  see,  my  dear  sister,  that  you  are  making  so  good 
use  of  that  speech.  You  are  right.  Lay  this  fact,  and  similar 
ones,  away  in  memory ;  ready  at  your  hand,  that  3'ou  may  sling 
them  like  the  youthful  David's  smooth  stones  from  the  brook,  at 
the  giant  Wrong  of  our  land.  I  perceive  that  your  woman's  arm 
will  make  dextrous  throws." 

Her  clear  laugh  caused  many  a  pair  of  eyes  to  lift  from  the 
benches,  over  which  they  were  bending  ;  but  the  remark  was  for 
her  brother's  ear. 

"Thank  you  for  the  simile,  Richard,  although  the  compliment  is 
somewhat  equivocal.  I  am  glad  to  think  I  may  be  adroit  in 
something  useful  to  progress.  So  then  I  shall  set  myself  about 
collectino:  from  the  current  of  events  small  missiles  to  sink  into 
the  forehead  of  arrogant  wrong.     Is  that  it,  Richard  ?  " 

"In  the  name  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  Fanny,  not  in  your  own 
strength." 

Fanny  was  happy  in  the  companionship  of  her  brother.  This 
was  one  of  her  golden  days.  She  listened  with  delight  and  trust 
to  his  ripened  thoughts.  Both  realized  that  the  necessarily  diver- 
gent paths  of  life  would  render  their  pleasant  communings  rarer, 
year   by  year.      They  sauntered  over  the  well-kept  walks,  till  the 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  385 

national  flag  caughi  their  view  above  the  trees,  floating  on  its  lofty 
btafl  against  the  morning  sky. 

A  sudden  transition  of  feeling  seized  Fanny ;  a  tremulous  rapture 
thrilled  her  voice.  Her  luminous  face  lifted  to  the  flag's  ample 
folds,  while  she  repeated, — 

"  When  Freedom  from  her  mountain  height 

Unfurled  her  standard  to  the  air. 
She  tore  the  azure  robe  of  night. 

And  set  the  stars  of  glory  there  ! 
She  mingled  with  its  gorgeous  dyes 

The  milky  baldric  of  the  skies  ! 
And  striped  its  pure  celestial  white 

With  streakings  of  the  morning  light." 

"  Ah  !  tears  again  }  forever  tears  ! " 

"Richard,  shall  I  ever  be  strons?" 

"  Yes,  as  I  said  before,  in  due  time.  When  by  proper  observa- 
tion and  careful  thought,  the  moral  and  religious  convictions  are 
sufficiently  disciplined,  they  will  assume  control  of  the  heart,  and 
offer  other  channels  for  your  emotions." 

''  That  day  seems  to  me  too  far  away." 

"Then  let  us  make  some  advances  towards  it  now.  You  know 
you  and  I  have  adopted  Truth  and  Freedom  as  our  life-long  rally- 
ing words.  To  distinguish  these  celestial  principles  from  their 
constitutional,  political,  and  religious  alloys,  will  require  a  scrutiny 
earnest  and  severe.  Let  us  consider  that  glorious  symbol,  unfold- 
ing its  beauty,  and  complaining  to  the  blue  depths  above.  If  divine 
Freedom  still  stood  upon  her  mountain  height,  and  after  having 
unfurled  her  standard  to  the  air;  I  say,  if  she  still  held  the  staff  in 
her  own  sovereign  hand,  as  the  magnificent  reward  to  the  justice  of 
this  Nation,  then  tears  of  solemn  admiration  might  fill  my  cool 
eyes,  also." 

"  Then,  Richard,  it  would  not  be  oyrs  !  It  could  not  be  the 
American  flag." 

"  Too  true  !  It  is  ours  only  by  fraud.  It  is  an  American  false- 
hood. Its  typical  purity  is  stained  by  pirate  hands,  soiled  by  the 
foul  huzzas  of  lying  lips.  It  is  polluted  with  robbery,  sanguinary 
cruelty,  the  rust  of  chains,  the  shame  of  bondage,  and  fraternal 
hatred." 


386  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Fanny  met  the  indignant  look  of  her  brother  with  a  startled  gaze, 
and  replied, — 

*•  Richard  !  Richard  !  you  freeze  my  enthusiasm,  and  trample  upon 
my  patriotism." 

"  It  is  always  a  severe  task  to  distinguish  truth  from  error;  but 
truth  is  eternal,  and  freedom  is  the  birthright  of  man,  twin-born 
■with  him.  The  grasp  of  tyranny  holds  that  flag  over  slaves. 
Those  stars  are  set  in  Mosaic  darkness.  Those  'streakings  of  the 
morning  light'  are  borrowed  from  the  lurid  dawn  of  Paganism  — 
'its  vaulted  pure  celestial  white"  is  but  stripings  of  the  blinding  fog 
which  veils  our  national  moral  vision." 

''  Henceforward,  then,  you  would  have  me  cease  to  bestow  either 
my  love  or  reverence  upon  the  proud  banner.  Henceforth  you 
would  have  me  raise  to  its  hovering  glory  only  looks  of  sorrowful 
reproof." 

"I  would  have  you  first  deliberate  for  yourself,  and  then,  if  there 
be  truth  in  what  I  have  said,  adopt  it.  As  for  me,  I  already  regard 
it  with  shame  for  my  countr}-,  and  I  shall  continue  to  proclaim  the 
wicked  duplicity  of  its  perverted  interpretation,  till,  in  the  language 
of  your  poet  Bryant,  (and  you  will  pardon  me  for  changing  his 
burning  words  to  prose)  till  '  terribly  Freedom  springeth  forth,  as 
springs  the  flame  above  the  burning  piles  ;  and  shoutest  to  the 
Nation,  who  returns  her  shouting,  while  the  pale  oppressor  flies  !  ' " 

Fanny  laid  her  hand  on  her  brother's  arm,  and  with  heroic  hope 
exclaimed, — 

'*  All  hail  to  the  triumphs  of  that  day !  Dare  we,  Richard,  look 
for  its  early  dawning  ?" 

"I  am  not  a  seer,"  he  said.  "Times  and  seasons  are  in  God's 
hands  ;  but  this  I  know  of  Freedom,  in  the  past, — 

•Power  at  thee  has  launched 
His  bolts,  and  with  his  lightnings  smitten  thee  • 
They  could  not  quench  the  life  thou  hast  from  Heaven.'  " 

They  were  now  ascending  the  steps  of  the  plain,  quadrangular 
building  used  as  a  depository  for  finished  guns.  They  ascended 
from  story  to  story,  walked  up  and  down  the  long  aisles  of  polished 
floors,  between  the   shining  stacks  of  arms.     They  wound  around 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  387 

the  double-tiered,  elliptical  racks,  filling  each  story,  as  one  threads 
the  paths  of  a  flower-garden. 

"Fanny,  there  are  iihicty  thousand  jjtitrders  hidden  in  these  pol- 
ished barrels,  within  these  four  walls  —  ninty  thousand  death 
groans,  within  their  throats  !  and  when  these  guns  go  to  the  front, 
our  religion  prays  for  their  success.  The  glorious  flag  out  there  on 
the  green,  leads  the  ghastly  host.  I  have  not  time  to  say  more. 
Exercise  your  free  thought  upon  that  fact ;  if  you  deem  it  worthy  a 
place  among  your  sling  stones,  drop  it  into  memory  with  the  others. 
Come,  take  my  arm,  Fanny.  Let  us  leave  this  Golgotha,  this 
place  of  skulls.  Are  you  faint?  your  face  is  pallid.  Come,  let  us 
descend  to  the  green  areas  and  sunny  walks.  We  will  repair  to 
the  chapel,  and  seek  Truth  there." 

The  chapel  doors  were  carelessly  open.  They  ascended  a  flight 
of  unswept  stairs,  to  the  audience-room.  A  look  of  neglect  and 
indifference  pervaded  the  dingy  slips  and  swinging  doors. 

"  Sit  down,  Fanny,"  said  Richard.  "  You  are  better,  now. 
Mefi  pray  he?  e. ' ' 

"  How  ?  " 

"  Constitutionally,  I  suppose." 

"  How  constitutionally  ?  " 

"  Id  accordance  with  its  intent,  in  harmony  with  war,  standing 
armies,  and  slavery.  I  find  the  steps  of  mercy,  truth  and  brother- 
hood constantly  blockaded  by  this  '  stone  of  stumbling.' " 

"  Doubtless  Richard,  you  judge  the  sermons  and  prayers  offered 
here  must  necessarily  have  a  martial  ring  —  mostly  omitting  the 
humility  and  forbearance  of  the  gospel, —  and  that,  in  addressing 
the  Deity,  it  would,  in  harmony  with  these  surroundings,  be  done 
by  Svord  of  command.'  " 

''  Assuredly  I  do.  You  wield  the  weapon  of  satire  well.  I 
ought;  for  I  am  fast  learning  —  yes,  too  fast,  the  enigmatical  char- 
acter of  churches  as  well  as  flags.  On  each  side  of  this  chapel  are 
devised  and  fashioned  munitions  of  war.  War  deluges  nations 
with  every  pain,  wound,  privation,  torture,  groan  and  grief  in  the 
catalogue  of  human  agony ;  with  every  species  of  disfiguring  and 
maiming  of  the  human  body,  which  was  the  last  and  most  perfect 
work  of  God's  creation.  It  fills  hospitals  and  homes  with  the  muti- 
lated forms  of  robust  and  stalwart  life." 


388  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"The  work  of  Christ,  our  Savior,  was  benignly  opposed  to  the 
deeds  of  war.  He  healed  the  sick,  restored  sight,  bade  the  lame 
walk,  and  even  raised  the  dead,"  replied  Fanny. 

"And  this  chapel  was  erected  in  Christ's  name!"  exclaimed 
Richard  ;  "  and  the  empty  mockery  of  His  worship  keeps  step 
with  the  click  of  those  hammers  from  year  to  year.*' 

"  A  strange  hallucination  seizes  the  world  and  professors  of 
Christ,  as  well  ;  at  the  words  of  incantation,  war,  troops,  infantry, 
battalions,  cavalry,  banners  and  drums,  the  meek  followers  of 
Christ,  so  called,  set  up  for  themselves  the  Pagan  standards  of 
Greece  and  Rome  ;  and  girded  with  deadly  weapons,  march  on  to 
slaughter.  Why  is  this,  Richard  ?  Is  the  church  destitute  of  the 
power  of  reflection  ?  " 

"  And  then,"  answered  Richard,  "  on  the  battle-field,  after  the 
most  shameless  exhibition  of  the  worst  passions  of  men,  amid  the 
horrifying  sight  of  the  prostrate,  wounded,  dying  and  dead,  they 
flaunt  their  green  laurels  in  the  frowning  face  of  the  all-searchirg 
God  —  the  God  of  peace,  love  and  mercy.  No,  Fanny;  the  power 
of  reflection  is  not  lost  to  the  world,  or  the  church,  yet  there  seems 
to  be  none  exercised.  I  must  give  in  answer  to  the  awful  inquiries 
we  are  making,  an  extract  from  Doctor  Chalmers,  an  eminent 
Scottish  divine.  It  seems  that  his  mind  has  been  shocked  by  the 
atrocious  inconsistencies  upon  which  we  are  speaking.  These  are 
his  expressions. 

"  '  I  avow  it.  On  every  side  of  me  I  see  causes  at  work  which 
spread  a  most  delusive  coloring  over  war,  and  to  remove  its  shock- 
ing barbarities  to  the  background  of  our  contemplation  altogether. 
I  see  it  in  the  history,  which  tells  me  of  the  superb  appearance  of 
the  troops  and  the  brilliancy  of  their  successive  charges.  I  see  it 
in  the  poetry  which  lends  the  magic  of  its  numbers  to  the  narration 
of  blood,  and  transports  its  many  admirers,  as  by  its  images  and 
its  figures,  and  its  nodding  plumes  of  chivalry,  it  throws  its  treach- 
erous embellishments  over  a  scene  of  legalized  slaughter.  I  see  it 
in  the  mnsic  which  represents  the  progress  of  a  battle  ;  and  where, 
after  being  inspired  by  the  trumpet  notes  of  preparation,  the  whole 
beauty  and  tenderness  of  a  drawing-room  are  seen  to  bend  over 
the  sentimental  entertainment;  nor  do  I  hear  the  utterance  of  a 
single  sigh,  to  interrupt  the  death-tones  of  the  thickening  contest, 


WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  389 

and  the  moans  of  the  wounded  as  they  fade  away  upon  the  ear,  and 
sink  into  lifeless  silence. 

"'All,  all  goes  to  show  what  strange,  half-sighted  creatures  we 
are.  Were  it  not  so,  war  could  never  have  been  seen  in  any  other 
aspect  than  that  of  unmingled  hatefulness  ;  and  I  can  look  to  noth- 
ing but  the  progress  of  Christian  sentiment  tipofi  earthy  to  arrest 
the  strong  current  of  its  popular  and  prevailing  partiality  for 
war.' " 

Richard  stepped  forward  to  the  altar  before  the  pulpit,  facing 
Fanny  and  the  swinging  door  at  the  entrance.  With  an  oratorical 
gesture  and  a  sarcastic  smile,  he  began, — 

"And  then,  my  hearers — " 

His  arm  dropped  —  the  smile  sobered  into  a  sudden  look  of  per- 
plexity. 

"  Continue  brother,"  whispered  Fanny,  uttering  a  light  laugh. 
"  Let  thi^  atmosphere  be  fully  perfumed  with  the  holy  breath  of 
Chalmers." 

Her  head  instinctively  turned  to  the  door,  where,  to  their  mutual 
surprise,  a  Quaker  hat,  and  coat  on  well  proportioned  shoulders, 
were  ascending.  He  met  their  inquiring  gaze  with  a  courtly  bow, 
walked  half  the  length  of  the. aisle,  and  with  an  agreeable  smile 
and  wave  of  the  hand  intended  to  dispel  distrust,  he  addressed 
Richard. 

"Continue,  my  friend.  I  will  become  one  of  thy  audience.  I 
am  a  man  of  peace,  as  thou  seest;"  and  seated  himself  in  a  slip. 

Richard  bowed  pleasantly ;  and  repeating  the  warning  gesture, 
continued  the  quotation  from  Chalmers. 

"  '  Then  only  will  an  imperious  sense  of  duty  lay  the  check  of 
severe  principle  on  all  the  subordinate  tastes  and  faculties  of  our 
nature.  Then  will  glory  be  reduced  to  its  right  estimate,  and  the 
wakeful  benevolence  of  the  gospel,  chasing  away  every  spell,  will 
be  turned  by  the  teaching  of  no  delusion  whatever,  from  the  sub- 
lime enterprise  for  the  good  of  the  species.  Then  the  reign  of 
truth  and  quietness  will  be  ushered  into  the  world,  and  war,  cruel, 
atrocious,  unrelenting  war  will  be  stripped  of  its  many  and  bewil- 
dering fascinations.' " 

Richard  left  the  altar  to  approach  the  stranger,  who  met  him 
with  extended  hand.     In  pressing  Richard's,  he  remarked, — 


390  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"There  will  be  no  necessity  of  asking  a  blessing  from  Heaven  on 
this  exercise,  for  I  feel  already  its  benign  influence.  Excuse  me," 
he  bowed,  "  I  listened  to  the  whole  quotation  on  the  stairs.  I  am 
a  visitor  to  this  National  Armory,  myself." 

"  Undoubtedly  you  find  some  objects  of  painful  interest  fostered 
here  by  our  government,"  suggested  Richard,  forming  his  judg- 
ment from  the  plain  garb  of  the  new  comer. 

''I  find  rt-Z/so;  and  I  may  safely  suppose  this 'two  or  three' 
gathered  here  in  this  chapel  are  alike  traitors  to  the  policy  here 
exhibited." 

"  Really  we  are ;  but  my  sister  here  has  scruples  in  favor  of 
church  and  government.  She  has  not  yet  the  effrontery  to  declare 
against  the  faults  of  either." 

A  flush  crept  into  Fanny's  cheeks.  Her  eyes  met  the  respectful 
look  of  the  stranger.  She  bowed  with  a  marked  reticence  of  man- 
ner, in  which  her  cotrage  bonnet  was  of  good  service. 

"To  thy  companion,"  replied  the  Friend,  "the  mystery  of  godli- 
ness may  be  still  enfolded  in  its  budding,  and  its  expanded  blos- 
som may  exceed  in  fragrance  and  beauty  the  present  promise." 

Their  glances  met  again.  A  deeper  blush  succeeded  the  first, 
as  she  returned  a  quiet  "Thank  you," 

To  Richard  he  observed, — 

**  I  know  quite  well,  friend,  the  conventional  restraint  placed 
upon  familiarity  between  strangers  ;  but  it  seems  there  should  be 
a  limit  to  distrust  under  the  favorable  circumstances  of  our  meet- 

■  M 

ing. 

"Your  impressions  concur  with  mine  entirely,  sir,"  replied 
Richard. 

The  stranger  continued. 

"There  are  other  flagrant  national  wrongs  kindred  to  fostering 
the  atrocities  of  war,  which  are  equally  abhorrent.  When  Truth 
has  once  set  her  throne  in  the  soul,  it  marshals  all  wrongs,  all 
tyrannies,  all  superstitions  to  judgment.  Perhaps,  then,  our  sen- 
timents may  be  in  unison  upon  our  American  Institution,  and  its 
Constitutional  supports." 

"I  regard  slavery  as  the  *sum  of  all  villanies' ;  and  I  claim  the 
prime  effort  of  my  life  to  be  its  extirpation." 

"  Frankly  spoken,  my  friend,"  replied  the  stranger,  "  and  omi- 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  39 1 

nous  of  thy  future  ;  thou  canst  not  afford  to  cast  away  proffered 
friendship."  He  pressed  Richard's  hand,  saying,  "  I  pledge  thee 
my  regard.  I  find  myself  actuated  by  the  same  determination. 
Remember,"  he  continued,  giving  the  hand  of  Richard  a  closer 
pressure,  "  Remember,  the  Southron  and  his  relentless  Northern 
allies  are  on  thy  track  !  " 

The  trio  descended  to  the  walks,  into  the  delicious  air  without. 
Fanny  found  a  seat  on  the  edge  of  the  lovely  green.  Richard 
sauntered  away  with  the  Friend.  The  birds  fluttered  down  from 
the  branches  to  the  grass  at  Fanny's  feet,  they  rustled  their  wings, 
cast  bright  eyes  at  her  askance,  and  dropped  sweet,  broken  notes, 
like  pearls  unstrung.     Not  a  movement  startled  their  tiny  sports. 

Plunged  in  rapid  meditations,  Fanny  sat  motionless  as  a  statue. 
The  few  hopeful  words  so  respectfully  addressed  to  her  in  the 
chapel,  were  obscure  —  so  ambiguous  in  meaning,  that  she  was  lost 
in  the  mazes  of  a  solution, 

"  Mystery  of  godliness  !  "  she  said  to  herself.  "  Mystery  !  why 
a  mystery  ? " 

Her  thoughts  ran  over  the  old  struggles  and  doubts  about  her 
own  conversion,  her  baptism,  the  silver  font,  with  its  three  hovering 
angels,  by  which  she  was  sealed  to  the  service  of  God, —  sealed  to 
godliness.  The  solemn  reverence  of  that  hour  returned  and  per- 
vaded her  heart.  The  holy  satisfaction  of  that  hour  re-illumined 
her  dreamy  countenance. 

"  And  yet  I  have  not  arrived  at  the  mystery  of  godliness,  still 
enfolded  in  its  budding.  This  mysterious  blossom  is  _>'<?/  to  expand 
in  fragrance  and  beauty.  Alas !  again  I  stumble  on  slippery 
places.  My  feet  are  on  the  sand.  More  struggles,  more  doubts, 
more  fears.  I  am  weary.  How  and  where,  but  in  the  bosom  of 
the  church,  can  I  make  my  calling  and  election  sure?  " 

In  this  trouble  of  spirit,  her  hands  clasped  on  her  white  muslin 
dress,  around  the  bunch  of  wild  flowers  which  Richard  had  gathered 
for  her  during  the  ride  ;  her  lids  dropped  above  the  fluttering  blue 
ribbons  tied  under  her  chin.  Far  away  up  the  pale,  azure  depths, 
above  arsenals,  above  the  floating  flag,  above  the  empty,  silent 
chapel,  above  battle-field  and  earthly  carnage,  a  vision  of  the 
"great  White  Throne"  opened  to  her  view.  She  was  before  the 
footstool  of  her  Omnipotent  Helper. 


392  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 


• 


In  full  faith  of  there  obtaining  the  only  proper  guidance,  she 
offered  her  voiceless  petition. 

"  Look  Thou  upon  me,  for  I  am  blind.  Lead  me  with  Thine 
own  right  hand,  whithersoever  Thou  wouldst  have  me  go.  Open 
Thou  mine  eyes,  that  I  may  behold  the  beauty  of  Thy  eternal 
Truth." 

Her  brother  and  his  Quaker  friend  stopped  before  her.  The 
heavenly  messenger  of  Peace  seemed  to  have  left  a  witness  upon 
her  brow  and  eyes.     This  calm  attracted  the  attention  of  both. 

"  Glorified,  my  sister.?  "  playfully  asked  Richard. 

"  M3'stified,'*'  thought  Fanny;  but  she  arose  quickly,  and  pro- 
ceeded with  her  friends  towards  the  chaise.  A  quick  neigh,  and  a 
pair  of  short,  pointed  ears  turned  upon  them ;  bade  them  hasten. 
Fanny  stooped  to  the  ground,  pulled  a  handful  of  red  clover  blos- 
soms, and  flew  along  to  obey  the  second  summons.  Iron  Gray  was 
appeased  with  caresses  and  clover. 

Richard  begged  the  stranger,  who  was  evidently  well  trained  in 
the  elegant  forms  of  society,  to  excuse  the  naivete  of  his  sister,  re- 
marking jocosely, — 

"One  would  imagine  she  came  from  the  pastures,  herself.  Her 
manners  are  as  unrestrained  as  the  summer  winds." 

"  '  Every  natural  action  is  graceful,'  says  Emerson,"  replied  the 
Friend.     "  And,  my  friend,  how 

*  Does  comeliness  of  words,  or  air, 
With  comeliness  of  deeds,  compare?* 

"  If  that  scene  were  placed  on  canvass,  the  most  fastidious  could 
but  admire." 

Hat  in  hand,  the  stranger  made  his  adieus.  The  chaise  rolled 
briskly  away,  leaving  his  white,  broad  brow  and  slightly  curling 
chestnut  hair  bronzed  in  the  sun's  glowing  rays. 

Iron  Gray,  bent  upon  making  up  lost  time,  proceeded  at  a  smart 
pace  down  the  long  inclination  towards  the  river.  Fanny  laid  her 
hand  on  her  brother's  arm,  saying, — 

"  Drive  slower,  Richard.  There's  a  lady  on  horseback.  Look  ! 
Do,  Richard  !  She  rides  splendidly !  Her  habit  almost  sweeps  the 
ground  !      And  her  horse,  black  as  night,  with  four  white  feet,  and 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  393 

a  white  star  under  his  flying  forelock  !  Turn  a  little  from  her  path. 
How  beautiful ! " 

The  charming  equestrienne  advanced,  and  when  quite  near,  sud- 
denly the  proud  animal  went  down.  His  fair  rider,  whose  face  at 
that  ^moment  was  glowing  with  exhilaration,  and  had  smilingly  met 
the  admiring  gaze  of  Fanny,  rolled  over  his  head,  like  a  ball,  in  the 
sand. 

Quick  as  thought,  Richard  threw  the  lines  to  his  sister,  and  stood 
by  the  bewildered  girl,  offering  his  hand  to  assist  her  in  rising. 
Without  prudery  she  took  it,  while  disentangling,  her  dress,  and 
rose  to  her  feet. 

"  Of  dust  we  are  ;  and  to  dust  we  must  return,"  she  remarked 
gleefully.     "  Ah  !  my  pony." 

He  had  risen  also,"  with  the  handsome  bridle-rein  over  his  head, 
trailing  on  the  road.  Richard  stepped  towards  him,  but  he  turned 
away. 

"  Do  not  approach  him,  sir.  He  will  fly  from  you.  Wait,  if  you 
please." 

She  gathered  up  her  long  skirt  in  one  hand,  and  went  forward. 

"  Marmion  j  "  she  called  in  a  voice  of  affectionate  command, 
"  Marmion,  come,  come  !  "  extending  her  arm  to  him. 

He  turned  slowly  about ;  with  shamefaced  step  approached  his 
mistress,  and  laid  his  nose  on  her  shoulder.  Throwing  the  rein  over 
her  arm,  she  parted  the  heavy,  black  locks  over  his  eyes  saying, — 

"  Never  mind  Marmion,  mi  qiierido !  Todo  el  mundo  coinete 
yerro  /  " 

With  an  embroidered  handkerchief  she  brushed  the  sand  from 
his  face  and  his  knees  j  she  patted  his  shining  shoulders,  led  him 
back  to  Richard,  and  gave  him  the  bridle.  She  stepped  back 
upon  the  grass,  remarking  that  her  own  plight  was  no  better  than 
her  pony's.  She  removed  her  broad-brimmed  straw  hat  of  costly 
fineness,  shook  the  sand  from  its  green  ribbons  and  bright,  green 
plume. 

She  began  beating  her  riding-dress  back  to  its  rich,  invisible 
green,  when  Fanny  begged  her  to  accept  a  brush  from  her  own 
satchel  in  the  chaise.  She  attended  to  the  skirt  herself ;  and  then 
placing  the  brush  in  Richard's  hand,  ingenuously  asked  his  assist- 
ance.    His  heart  and  hand  were  a  little   tremulous,   as  he   passed 


394  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

the  brush  over  her  statuesque  shoulders  ;  but  his  cool,  Northern 
blood  stood  him  in  good  service.  He  acquitted  himself  creditably, 
assuring  her  that  the  accident  was  doubtless  caused  by  a  rolling 
stone ;  adding,  that  the  surest-footed  horses  were  liable  to  fall  upon 
our  pebbly  roads. 

Fanny  ventured  to  inquire,  from  the  chaise,  if  the  lady  had 
escaped  without  injury  ? 

'•  Yes  dear,'*  replied  a  sparkling  voice,  "  I  am  unharmed,  except 
a  dull  pain  in  one  wrist ;  that  will  soon  subside.  I  am  very  for- 
tunate." 

She  then  looked  about  her,  for  some  object  from  which  she 
could  mount.     Finding  nothing,  she  turned  to  Richard,  saying, — 

'''  I  am  under  the  necessity  of  soliciting  your  aid,  sir.  Will  you 
lend  me  your  hand,  sir,  in  mounting  '  Marmion?'" 

"I  fear  I  should  be  more  awkward  than  agreeable,"  he  replied. 

"  No  indeed,  sir.  Place  your  hand  so,"  showing  the  distance 
from  the  ground.  "  I  will  place  my  foot  upon  it ;  then  with  a 
slight  lift  on  your  part,  I  will  spring  into  the  saddle  again. 

She  placed  one  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  the  other  upon  the 
pommel,  and  laughingly  gave  the  word,  '*'  I  am  ready,"  As  a  bird 
rises  from  the  ground,  she  vaulted  to  Marmion's  back.  The  fire  of 
pride  returned  to  his  eyes,  as  he  felt  his  accustomed  burden.  He 
waited  "  with  impatient  stamping,"  for  the  way. 

She  reined  him  to  the  side  of  the  chaise,  Richard  following. 

"  I  owe  many  thanks  to  you,  my  friends,"  looking  from  one  to 
the  other  ;  "and  I  doubt  not,  to  make  other  acknowledgment  in  the 
form  of  reward  would  be  considered  an  insult.  I  have  not  far  to 
ride  ;  but  through  your  courteous  aid,  I  shall  arrive  with  decency." 

''  You  are  under  no  obligations,"  said  Richard.  "  We  are  happy 
in  restoring  you  to  your  queenly  position." 

"  We  are  indebted  to  this  event  for  a  great  pleasure,"  said 
Fanny. 

The  lady  had  been  busy  unfastening  a  small,  diamond  brooch  at 
her  throat.     This  she  tossed  into  the  chaise  to  Fanny. 

"  Take  this  dear,  as  a  keepsake.  Do  not  refuse.  It  lies  on  the 
carpet  at  your  feet." 

A  blush  crimsoned  Fanny's  cheeks  as  she  raised  the  expensive 
jewel,  and  said, — 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  395 

"  Pray,  dear  lady,  pardon  me  ;  but  I  do  not  wear  diamonds  ;  they 
do  not  suit  with  plain  attire.  Allow  me  to  return  it  with  a  thou- 
sand thanks.     I  shall  not  forget  this  harmless  catastrophe." 

The  lady  took  it  reluctantly.  Bidding  a  smiling  aic  revoir^  she 
waved  her  hand  to  both,  and  galloped  away. 

The  chaise  rolled  on  in  the  opposite  direction,  down  the  hill,  and 
on  to  West  Elms. 

"  This  is  a  day  of  events,"  said  Fanny.  "  We  have  made  two  unex- 
pected acquaintances." 

"  And  those  two  are  as  widely  different  as  the  North  is  from  the 
South  —  both  in  habit  and  principle." 

"You  know  nothing  of  this  lady,  Richard,"  manifesting  much 
surprise. 

"  Nothing  personally  ;  but  much  by  deductions  from  analogy  and 
observation." 

"  How  ? " 

"Ah!  Fanny,  you  are  an  unbelieving  'Thomas,'  you  must  place 
your  fingers  in  the  'nail  prints;'  in  other  words,  you  will  have 
logic.  Well  then,  the  premises  learned  by  observation.  Her  pony 
with  equipment,  would  safely  be  valued  at  three  hundred  dollars  \ 
her  riding  suit,  including  the  fine  laces,  not  less  than  one  hundred  ; 
aud  the  diamond  brooch,  set  in  emeralds,  with  other  jewelry  about 
her,  has  a  value  of  not  less  than  two  hundred ;  her  watch  and  chain 
set  down  at  another  two  hundred  —  and  I  think  that  is  under 
value, —  total  for  one  style  of  locomotion,  eight  hundred  dollars." 

"  Minus  the  watch,  Richard  ;  that  is  worn  everywhere." 

"  No  doubt  she  had  about  her  articles  worth  as  much  as  the 
watch,  which  do  not  enter  into  this  calculation. 

Premise  Second.  The  lady's  high  bred  manners,  which,  I  confess, 
were  the  perfection  of  grace  and  propriety.  Most  conspicuous 
were  the  cool  self-possession  with  which  she  met  her  disgrace,  the 
ingenuous  acceptance  of  my  assistance,  the  absence  of  all  prudery 
or  coquetishiiess  :  also,  I  might  add,  the  proud  cast  of  features  and 
finish  of  language.     She  petted  Marmion  in  Spanish. 

Premise  Third.  Her  rare  generosity  in  throwing  you  the  brooch 
as  if  it  were  a  trifling  gift.     Did  you  not  observe  this  Fanny  ?  " 

"  I  did  ;  but  I  had  only  time  to  admire,  not  to  analyze." 

"  The  result  of  that  admiration  was,  my   sister,  falling  into  an 


396  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK  JUNE. 

imaginary  insignificance  yourself ;  feeling  scarcely  worthy  to  lift 
the  trail  of  her  rich  habit  from  the  earth.  Learn  to  analyze^  Fanny 
—  it  furnishes  a  basis  for  a  grander  nobility  than  the  blue  blood 
of  inherited  birth.  This  grander  nobility  has  its  escutcheon  in- 
scribed with  Truth,  beneficent  Truth,  in  contrast  with  the  feudality 
of  the  Dark  Ages,  which  is  emblazoned  with  the  most  ferocious  in- 
stincts of  animal  tribes." 

"  No  heraldry  is  admitted  in  our  Republic,"  suggested  Fanny. 

"Not  literally  ;  but  the  subtle  spirit  of  rampant  lions,  leopards, 
bears,  wolves  and  foxes,  animates  a  portion  of  our  Republic.  The 
South  places  this  unpalatable  fruit  of  effete  aristocracies  to  our 
Northern  lips.     The  South  would  fain  have  us  be  its  serfs." 

"  But  Richard,  how  can  it  imagine  such  an  outrage  upon  fellow 
freemen,  and  how  accomplish  it?" 

"It  imagines  it  by  unconstitutional  abridgment  of  the  freedom 
of  speech,  and  of  the  press  ;  it  perpetrates  the  black  deed  through 
its  minions  in  Congress,  familiarly  known  as  '  dough  faces.'  " 

"Nonsense  !"  ejaculated  Fanny,  indignantly,  "there  is  no  com- 
pulsion to  a  Northerner.  He  can  remain  a  freeman,  or  sink  into 
an  abject  serfdom,  as  his  own  will  dictates." 

"  Nobly  spoken ;  but  there  are  Northern  serfs.  Charles  G. 
Atherton,  senator  from  New  Hampshire,  and  Henry  J.  Pinkney  of 
South  Carolina,  slave-holder,  are  of  the  same  brotherhood.  After 
Pinkney  had  succeeded  in  nullifying  our  power  of  presenting  to 
government  petitions,  resolutions,  propositions  or  papers  relating 
to  slavery,  by  ordering  them  laid  upon  the  table  wi-diout  being 
printed  or  referred,  Atherton  took  out  his  jack-knife,  and  whittled 
a  gag  for  the  mouths  of  Northern  freemen,  of  more  accurate  dimen- 
sions. He  added  the  words  ^without  being  debated^  to  Pinkney's 
'without  being  printed  or  referred.'  And  thus  one  of  Xev\  Hamp- 
shire's sons,  born  amid  the  mountains,  would  stilie  the  voice  of  con- 
science, choke  all  the  utterances  of  Freedom  to  silence,  and  drive 
before  him  a  herd  of  maudlin  slaves  ;  he  would  take  the  contract 
himself  in  Congress." 

"Richard!"  She  turned  her  glowing  eyes  upon  him.  "Rich- 
ard !  they  will  never  gag  you  to  silence,  Pinkney  nor  Atherton  ! 
they  shall  never  drive  me,  a  silent  thrall,  woman  as  I  am,  and 
nothing  though  \  am  !     So  here  let  us  cast    away   all    thought  of 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  397 

these  traitors  to  God  and  liberty ;  thoughts  which  goad  me  to  un- 
righteous wrath.  Do  not  allow  their  viperous  names  to  darken 
this  golden  day.  Return  to  your  deductions  from  the  premises 
already  considered.  Our  time  is  limited  ;  we  are  drawing  near 
West  Elms.  Conclusion  from  premise  first,  Richard.  That  was 
the    eight-hundred  dollar  outfit." 

"Well  then,  from  the  outfit  may  be  inferred  that  the  lady  is  not 
a  resident  of  these  parts.  Eight  hundred  dollars  is  enough  to  pur- 
chase a  small  farm,  or  to  make  a  good  beginning  on  a  large  one. 
Our  farmers  and  merchants  gather  money  too  slowly  to  lavish  it  in 
that  manner.  None  but  those  who  live  upon  robbery,  or  the  stolen 
toils  of  others,  have  such  amounts  at  their  disposal.  I  deduce  that 
she  is  a  Southerner." 

"  Now  for  premise  second.  That  relates  to  her  high-bred  man- 
ners, grace  and  propriety,  Spanish  tongue,  etc.,"  and  Fanny 
laughed  gaily.  •'  Ah  I  I  fear  she  galloped  away  with  your  heart, 
my  bachelor  brother." 

"I  confess  her  learning  was  noble;  and  softened  by  the  con- 
descension which  enslaves  man's  adoration." 

Her  accomplishments  denote  the  wealth,  time  and  opportunity 
of  what  is  termed  high-birth,  which  includes  reading,  study,  refined 
social  intercourse,  and  travel.  The  proud  cast  of  features  must  re- 
sult from  absence  of  sordid  cares  and  the  possession  of  power  over 
inferiors.  I  observed  the  Southern  fire  flaming  in  her  impetuous 
eyes." 

"Deduction  second.     Marmion's  rider  is  of  blue-blood  lineage." 

"  Let  me  hear  about  her  rare  generosity,  in  casting  diamonds  at 
my  feet." 

"What  is  your  inference,  Fanny  ?     You  are  a  sharp  logician." 

"Why,  that  she  has  thousands  at  her  command,  and  could  easily 
replace  that  cluster  by  another  more  brilliant,  or  that  she  has  others 
already." 

"  Analyze  deeper  ;  and  say  that  the  unpaid  labor  of  bondage  buys 
diamonds.  Say  that  the  price  of  a  little,  prattling,  five-year-old 
boy,  or  the  price  of  a  laughmg,  little  curly-headed,  two-year-old 
girl,  sold  from  a  broken  hearted  mother,  perhaps,  bought  that  dia- 
mond and  emerald  brooch.  Then  deduce  that  she  who  has  rare 
generosity  is  a  slave-holder." 


398  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK:  JUNE. 

Fanny  replied  with  a  shudder, — 

"  Oh  !  my  heart  aches  to  tiie  core  at  the  hideous  picture.  There 
are  cruelty,  tears,  and  blood  in  that  brooch.  Its  touch  is  crimi- 
nal !  " 

"The  same  stains  are  upon  the  pony,  caparison,  habit,  laces  and 
green  plume,  my  sister ;  but  here  we  are  upon  the  long,  broad 
street  of  West  Elms.  These  stately  trees  arch  grandly  overhead  ; 
the  sight  of  these  abodes  of  peace,  amidst  ample  surroundings  of 
comfort,  are  medicine  to  perturbed  thoughts." 

They  soon  alighted  at  the  granite  steps  of  the  deep  lawn  in  front 
of  Mrs.  Glenly's,  and  were  met  at  the  door  by  the  outstretched 
hands  of  Mrs.  Glenly  and  her  two  daughters,  Caro  and  Ida.  Over 
their  shoulders  shone  the  beneficent  faces  of  the  father  and  son, 
who  had  just  returned  from  their  farm  labors.  They  were  wel- 
comed with  that  warmth  of  cordialty  which  those  only  know  who 
are  engaged  in  a  saving  controversy  with  sin-sodden,  but  time- 
honored  svstems  ;  who,  hand  in  hand,  are  en^rajjed  in  the  strujiirle 
for  the  sublime  victory  of  godlike  Love  and  Peace,  over  debased 
Passion  ;  who  calmly  abjure  worldly  homage  and  distinction  ;  who 
quietly  exchange  terrerestrial  dignities  for  public  contempt ;  and 
who  are  at  once  the  glory  and  scandal  of  neighborhoods  and  com- 
munities. 

Such  was  the  friendship  of  the  Glenlys  and  their  guests ;  its 
eager  hand-shaking  had  nothing  deceptive  or  superficial. 

During  the  afternoon  of  the  second   day,  there  was  another  arri- 
val at  the  Glenlys.     Two  men  came  up  the  walk,  with  heads   bent, 
and  conversing  in   low   tones  ;    one   in    Quaker   attire,  the   other, 
marked  by  the  easy  carriage  of  good   birth,  combined  with  the  de-' 
spised  American  color. 

"  Why,  girls  !  the  white  gentleman  is  Friend  Sterlingworth,"  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Glenly. 

"  But  the  other  is  a  stranger,  mother." 

"True;  you  remember  the  sentiment  of  'angels  unawares.'" 

She  met  them  at  the  steps,  w'ith  the  warm  welcome  w-hich  was  the 
spirit  of  the  house.  Fanny  had  discovered  that  the  Friend  and 
dress  were  the  same  she  had  seen  in  the  chapel  at  the  arsenal,  the 
day  previous. 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  399 

After  a  formal  introduction  to  Fanny,  Mr.  Sterlingworth  intro- 
duced his  companion  to  each  lady,  under  the  name  of  Ishmael 
Valmonte.  The  young  man  met  his  welcome  with  a  retiring  bow, 
downcast  eye,  and  blushes  that  were  plainly  seen  under  his  light 
brown  hue,  offering  a  shy  acceptance  of  the  sympathetic  hands  ex- 
tended towards  him. 

"Friend  Sterlingworth,  we  rarely  see  you  since  our  removal  to 
Massachusetts,"  said  Mrs.  Glenly.  ''  Doubtless  you  are  here  now 
on  some  errand  of  mercy." 

*'  I  am  here  at  the  command  of  both  duty  and  pleasure.  Under 
this  roof-tree,  I  ever  find  rest  and  renewed  hope  in  the  cause  of 
freedom,  to  which  we  are  mutually  devoted.  I  am  now  in  pursuit 
of  a  home  for  Ishmael.'" 

"  Is  he  a  fugitive  ?  "  asked  Caro. 
^  *'  No,  Caro!  he  is  a  freeman  by  all  the  laws  and  codes  touching 
his  former  condition.  '  His  master  brought  him  to  New  York, 
sought  the  abolitionists  privately,  made  out  his  free  papers,  and  left 
him  in  their  hands  tor  future  guardianship.  I  was  in  the  city  at  the 
time.  The  friends  of  freedom  entrusted  him  to  my  care.  He  is 
to  be  educated  in  New  England." 

"  Fanny  had  never  before  known  an  American  slave,  and  she 
made  his  words  and  manner  a  constant  study.  Strange  enough, 
her  previous  ideas  concerning  one  who  had  just  come  out  of  bon- 
dage were  all  at  fault.  There  was  no  irrepressible  outburst  of  the 
ecstatic  gladness  one  should  naturally  evince  in  the  early  posses- 
sion of  Hberty.  Ishmael  maintained  an  almost  painful  reticence  on 
the  points  she  so  longed  to  ascertain,  giving  brief,  but  respectful 
replies  to  questions  tending  to  elicit  a  history  of  his  life.  What 
might  be  his  soulful  emotions,  she  could  not  read,  for  the  dark, 
downcast  eyes  were  ever  veiled.  Conversation  with  him  ran 
thus, — 

"Ishmael,  are  you  not  glad  to  be  free?" 

"Yes,  miss." 

•'  Had  you  a  cruel  master  ?  " 

"  No,  miss." 

"  Were  you  ever  punished  ?  " 

"I  was  never  whipped,  ma'am.'* 

•"  Were  your  tasks  hard  ? " 


400  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"1  had  no  tasks,  ma'am." 

"  What  work  was  assigned  you  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  work,  miss  ;  I  was  footman." 

This  system  of  questioning  was  repulsive  to  Fanny ;  and,  much 
as  she  desired  to  learn  of  the  working  of  a  system  which  she  ab- 
horred, from  one  initiated,  the  door  was  closed. 

Caro,  Ida  and  Fanny  found  many  pleasant  strolls  through  the 
meadows  to  the  river  and  to  the  berry  fields.  They  were  accompanied 
by  the  friend,  who  failed  not  to  draw  Ishmael  along  with  them  ;  striv- 
ing, as  Caro  said,  to  charm  away  his  embarrassment  in  a  strange 
land.  Ishmael  always  made  preparations  for  the  excursions  with  a 
quick  step  ;  but  once  upon  the  paths,  he  invariably  fell  to  the  rear, 
followin.2:  at  a  short  distance.  If  Mr.  Sterlingworth,  for  any  reason, 
became  "separated  from  the  group,  Ishmael  walked  after  him,  pre- 
serving a  measured  distance  between  them. 

On  one  occasion,  it  chanced  that  the  Friend  and  Fanny  walked 
apart  from  the  sisters.     Fanny  kindly  called  Ishmael  to  her  side. 

"  Walk  with  us,  Ishmael ;  do  not  remain  ever  alone." 

Giving  her  a  pleasant  smile,  he  replied, — 

"  I  will,  miss." 

A  few  moments  passed,  and  he  had  fallen  back  to  his  former 
place. 

"  Mr.  Sterlingworth,"  said  Fanny,  "why  will  not  Ishmael  talk 
with  us  }     Do  you  not  think  he  likes  liberty  ?  " 

"I  will  tell  t'hee,  Fanny.  Didst  thou  ever  have  a  caged  bird?  a 
canary,  or  any  other,  to  which  thou  hast  opened  the  door  of  his 
prison,  and  said,  '  Fly  away  to  thy  native  skies.? '  " 

'•  I  had  a  tame,  young  robin,  which  I  took  from  some  pitiless 
boys,  and  kept  through  the  winter.  In  the  spring,  when  the  air 
was  thrilled  with  the  songs  of  birds,  he  listened  sadly,  day  after 
day,  but  sang  not  a  note.  I  opened  the  door  of  his  cage  in  the 
sunny  woods,  and  bade  him  go." 

''  \Vhere  did  thy  robin  fly  ?  " 

"  He  flew  to  a  spray  of  a  bush,  and  sat  there  bewildered." 

"What  next.?" 

"  He  essayed  a  high  branch  of  an  oak,  but  fell  into  a  pool  of 
water  beneath  ;  then   I  wished  he  were  in  the  cage  again,  but  he 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  40I 

fluttered  out  of  the  pool,  falling  and  soaring,  till  he  was  lost  to  me 
in  the  woods." 

"As  J  expected,  Fanny.  Thou  seest  robin's  wings  were  not  used 
to  flying.  Although  he  longed  to  perch  upon  the  sunniest,  topmost 
twig,  he  could  not  spread  his  wings,  so  long  folded.  A  few  days 
and  weeks  of  trial  were  necessary  to  develope  his  natural  buoy- 
ancy. Perhaps  now  he  is  careering  through  space,  and  pouring 
forth  the  sweetest  sonsfs  of  all  his  mates." 

"  I  hope  so ;  for  granting  his  freedom  seemed  to  me  a  cruel 
abandonment." 

"  Now,  Fanny,  compare  Issy  with  thy  robin.  The  poor  fellow 
feels  yet  the  pressure  of  his  life-long  gyves.  The  feeling  has  not 
worn  off,  nor  will  it  for  years.  Fetters  of  all  kinds,  though  encased 
in  velvet,  contract  and  indent.  Every  mental  capacity  he  inherits  (as 
I  know  thou  believest)  alike  with  the  whole  human  race;  but  these 
capacities  have  developed  no  farther  than  the  measure  of  his  chains. 
I  see  !  Thou  hast  thought  to  draw  from  him  the  burden  of  the 
past,  and  to  share  it  with  him.  The  time  will  be  when  his  tongue 
will  be  loosed,  and  sympathy  like  thine  will  be  as  grateful  as  the 
dews  that  descend  upon  Hermon." 

''  I  have  been  quite  troubled." 

"  I  have  seen  thy  perplexity,  and  beg  thee  to  be  troubled  no 
more.  The  better  way,  I  think  for  Issy,  is  to  solve  the  problem  of 
liberty  by  observation,  and  his  own  method  of  thought,  at  least  for 
the  present." 

"  Why  will  he  not  walk  with  us  ?  " 

'•'Because  he  is  accustomed  to  follow  his  master.  He  followed 
him  all  about  the  streets  of  New  York^  and  while  he  was  making 
out  the  free  papers,  Issy  stood  at  the  back  of  his  chair.  More 
than  that,  Fanny,  Issy  never  sat  in  the  presence  of  a  white  person 
before  he  left  New  York." 

Nature  bestowed  golden  days  upon  the  week  of  Mr.  Sterling- 
worth's  stay  at  the  Glenlys.  To  Fann}^  every  one  brim.med  with 
happiness  ;  and  from  the  conversations,  her  soul  grew  in  the  grace 
of  the  reformer.  Ishmael  anticipated  every  wish,  and  divined  her 
every  need.  He  raised  her  fallen  handkerchief,  he  placed  her 
chair,  brought  her  bonnet  and  shawl,  opened  doors  before  her,  and 
closed  them  after.    He  poured  water  from  the  ice  pitcher,  reaching 


402  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

it  before  she  could  lay  her  hand  upon  it.  Indeed  he  performed 
these  duties  with  alacrity  for  all  in  the  household  ;  but  towards 
Mrs.  Glenly  and  Fanny  there  was  noticeable  partiality. 

"Why,  girls,"  said  Mrs.  Glenly,  one  day,  "what  will  become  of 
us  when  Ishmael  is  gone?  We  shall  have  to  wait  upon  ourselves. 
W^e  have  suddenly  put  on  the  airs  of  Southerners." 

"  O  mother  !  I  like  it !  "  declared  Ida,  ringing  out  a  m.erry  laugh  ; 
*'this  being  waited  upon  at  every  turn  is  delightful.  I  wish  Ish- 
mael, or  some  other  Arab  could  be  my  constant  attendant." 

"Ida  Glenly  I  "  remonstrated  Caro,  "you  should  be  ashamed  of 
such  meaningless  words.  I  am  sure  you  have  wounded  Fanny  by 
this  reckless  outbreak." 

Fanny's  cheeks  flushed  ;  and  she  replied  seriously, — 

"  Ida,  I  believe  every  person  is  accountable  for  his  own  senti- 
ments ;  girls,  as  well  as  women  and  men.  Your  sentiments  are  not 
mine  1  " 

"Do  those  blushes  tell  a  tale?"  derisively  questioned  Ida. 
"  Perhaps  you  cherish  a  tenderness  for  Ishmael's  handsome  figure. 
I  confess  his  jet  black  curls  are  lovely  beyond  anything  I  ever  saw, 
and  he  hides  fascination  under  those  forever  drooped  lids.  More- 
over, he  has  an  aristocratic  cut  of  features,  if  I,,  an  abolitionist's 
daughter,  can  imagine  what  an  aristocrat  may  be," 

'•Ida!"  quickly  responded  the  reproving  voice  of  her  mother, 
"  you  are  incorrigible.  I  bid  you  retire  to  your  chamber ;  remain 
there  till  to-morrow  morning." 

It  w^as  now  her  turn  to  flush  ;  but  obedience  was  the  law  of  her 
parents.     Ida,  mortified  and  crest-fallen,  withdrew. 

Mrs.  Glenly  and  Caro  repaired  to  the  kitchen  ;  it  was  ironing 
day.  A  cloud  still  brooded  over  Fanny,  when  Mr.  Sterlingworth 
and  Issy  entered.  Unaccustomed  to  dissembling,  her  face  was  an 
open  page  to  the  Friend's  observant  eye.  He  seated  himself  near, 
and  asked  kindlv  if  auo;ht  troubled  her. 

*'  Can  I  not  assist  to  unravel  perplexities  ? " 

All  undivined  by  Fanny,  Mr.  Sterlingworth  often  studied  the 
lights  and  shadows  that  swept  over  her  face;  its  pain,  grief,  sym- 
pathy, its  childlike  questionings,  doubts,  and  illuminations.  He  had 
found  these  changes  were  produced  by  struggles  with  conscience, 
by  a  supreme  adoration  of  nature,  by  a  self  abnegation,  or  by  other 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  403 

causes  equally  worthy.  He  was  sure  now  she  would  speak  with  the 
frank  candor  that  ever  charmed  him.  After  some  hesitation,  to 
relieve  embarrassment,  she  attempted  to  pour  a  glass  of  water  her- 
self. Ishmael  was  there  before  her ;  he  poured  and  presented  it, 
with  a  graceful  bow. 

She  turned  to  Mr.  Sterlingworth. 

"  That  is  the  trouble  —  Ishmael  will  serve  me  as  if  I  were  his 
mistress.  I  have  accepted  his  services  as  if  I  desired  this  servility, 
but  I  have  reproached  myself  that  I  have  not  given  him  his  first 
lesson   on  freedom  by  a  refusal  to  be  waited  upon  in  this  ^man- 


ner " 


It 


What  hast  thou  to  say,  Issy  1 "  asked  the  gentleman. 

"Miss  Fanny,"  he  said,  "I  have  waited  upon  you  with  great 
pleasure,  I  assure  you  ! "  with  another  bow,  retiring  to  his  seat. 

"  Issy  has  rendered  thee  a  love  service  !  "  explained  the  Friend, 
"  not  that  of  a  menial.  He  has  done  this  habitually  for  those  who 
classed  him  with  brutes.  He  cannot  refuse  these  trifling  attentions 
to  those  who  acknowledge  his  manhood.  He  will  be  wounded  if 
thou  refusest.  These  habits  will  soon  wear  away.  I  fully  appre- 
ciate thy  fine  sensibilities,  Fanny,  but  banish  these  thoughts  to  the 
wind.  Come  into  the  orchard;  I  have  discovered  several  early 
trees.     Issy,  bring  the  basket." 

"  He  seems  so  much  like  Richard,"  thought  Fann\%  as  they 
walked  over  the  green  turf.  Shall  I  ever  see  things  in  their  right 
light,  without  a  guide  ?  " 

The  short  week  soon  came  to  an  end.  The  departure  of  the 
Friend  and  his  charge  was  followed  down  the  long  avenue  of  elms 
by  the  regretful  regards  of  the  family.  Ishmael  was  to  occupy  the 
solitary  passages  of  her  visit.  The  strange  effects  of  bondage,  and 
the  bewildering  process  of  becoming  free,  were  to  become  fruitful 
sources  of  reflection. 

The  Glenly  homestead  was  situated  at  the  head  of  the  street, 
within  the  shade  of  the  avenue  below.  The  house  was  large, 
square  and  plain.  Its  lower  apartments  were  spacious  and  airy. 
The  tiers  of  chambers  were  equally  commodious  ;  their  many  open 
windows  admitted  the  songs  of  birds  and  neighbor's  voices.  They 
presented  also,  views  of   the  sweeping  river,  rich  hay-flelds,  reach- 


4C4  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

ing  to  its  banks,  sunny  pastures  well  stocked  with  herds  which 
would  have  delighted  the  eye  even  of  Rosa  Bonheur.  On  the  south 
side,  a  hard  graveled  road  wound  round  from  the  street  to  ample 
barns.  Over  this  road,  at  morning  and  at  night,  were  driven  lowing 
troops  of  brindled  and  spotted  cows,  frolicsome  calves,  sleek  horses, 
and  gentle-eyed  oxen. 

These  were  the  delight  of  Fanny ;  the  tramp  of  their  feet  was  a 
sure  sammons  to  the  open  doors  or  windows,  till  the  dumb  crea- 
tures seemed  to  grow  conscious  of  her  presence  and  love.  Rural 
rambles,  twilight  walks,  reading  and  social  calls  made  time  pass 
swiftlv. 

One  golden  evening,  a  card  was  brought  to  IMrs.  Glenly,  inscribed 
with  a  name  which  caused  a  shadow  of  serious  surprise.  She  en- 
tered the  parlor,  however,  with  her  usual  smiling  composure.  Soon 
the  girls  heard  across  the  wide  hall  a  sprightly  conversation,  varied 
with  bursts  of  polite  gayety.  The  tones  were  of  mutual  satisfac- 
tion and  pleasure.  It  seemed  the  atfable  desire  of  the  visitor  to 
please,  and  the  agreeable  willingness  of  Mrs.  Glenly  to  be  com- 
plaisant. 

'*  O  Caro !  "  said  Ida,  "  what  can  be  the  meaning  of  this,  the  first 
call  of  Mrs.  Donald.?" 

"You  know  Mrs.  Donald  has  Southern  relatives  ;  her  sympathies 
and  ours  are  widely  at  variance.  She  has  Southern  company  this 
summer;  that  is  sufficient  cause  for  coolness  on  her  part." 

'•  Her  young  lady  visitor  always  bows  to  us  when  she  is  out  rid- 
ing ;  and  I  love  dearly  to  see  her  sweeping  by,"  replied  Ida,  in  an 
animated  manner.     "I  should  like  to  make  her  acquaintance." 

"  But  sister,  you  well  know  there  is  more  cause  for  coolness 
towards  our  family  on  the  part  of  that  young  lady,  than  is  expected 
of  Mrs.  Donald.  We  believe  in  the  very  first  breath  that  Freedom 
ever  drew  on  American  soil,  her  first  cry  of  life,  that  all  men  are 
created  free  and  equal ;  and  are  endowed  by  their  Creator  with  cer- 
tain inalienable  rights  which,  to  a  Southerner,  are  no  rights  at 
all." 

"And  more,"  spoke  Fanny.  "We  supplement  that  with  the 
Scriptures;  that  God  made  of  one  blood,  all  nations  of  the 
earth." 

"  And  therefore  all  nations  are  men,  entitled  to  life,  liberty,  and 


WHITE    MAY,    AND      BLACK   JUNE.  405 

the  pursuit  of  happiness,"  finished  Caro.  ''The  Southerners  find 
men  only  in  the  white  races;  and  a  paucity  at  that." 

"  Southerner  !  "  cried  Ida.  "  Southerner  !  that  walking  phantom  ! 
♦hat  spectre,  of  which  some  people  have  a  frightful  dread  !  I  should 
like  their  acquaintance.  I  should  like  to  visit  their  pleasant  land 
of  fruits  and  flowers,  to  gather  jasmines  in  March,  and  roses  in 
December." 

"  You  must  be  infatuated,"  quickly  replied  Caro.  Many  of  us 
who  live  in  cold,  icy  climates,  would  delight  to  breathe  their  balmy 
air,  and  to  saunter'amid  tropical  fragrance.  But  in  the  language 
of  Garrison,  '  To  us  there  is  no  Union  ;  a  price  is  set  upon  our  heads  P 
March  jasmines  and  December  roses  do  not  flourish  in  the  prisons 
that  await  us  !  and  you,  my  sweet  sister,  would  as  soon  become  a 
victim  to  these  Algerine  laws,  as  any  other,  because  our  father  is 
laboring  to  'establish  justice,  insure  domestic  tranquility,  and  pro- 
mote the  general  welfare.'  " 

"I  prefer  Northern  ice  and  snow,  to  Southern  incarceration!" 
said  Fanny,  with  supreme  disdain. 

Just  then  the  call  ended;  the  lady  departed,  gathering  up  laces 
and  silks  from  dews  scarcely  yet  falling. 

Mrs.  Glenly  entered  the  circle  of  outstretched  hands,  and 
allowed  herself  to  be  drawn  down  upon  the  sofa,  in  a  nest  of  bright, 
inquisitive  faces. 

"We  are  ready,  mamma;  speak  quickly,"  urged  Ida. 

"  And  what  do  you  thiuk  ?  " 

Each  of  her  hands  w^as  suddenly  imprisoned  in  a  warm  clasp,  and 
three  pairs  of  eyes  twinkled  about  her. 

"Well,  listen.  Mrs.  Donald  came  to  entreat  the  favor  of  an  in- 
vitation for  Miss  Leonore  to  an  afternoon  tete-a-tete  with  the  family ; 
that  is,  with  myself  and  daughters,  Fanny  included." 

Ida's  hands  clapped  with  joy. 

"  Mrs.  Donald  assures  me  the  young  lady  desires  the  interview, 
in  order  to  converse  with  abolitionists ;  to  learn  from  their  own  lips, 
views  which  she  has  heard  so  much  deprecated.  She  desires  also  to 
form  friendships  with  the  young  ladies." 

"  In  other  words,"  said  Mrs.  Donald'  "  she  wishes  to  become 
Northernized." 

In  joyful  amazement  they  listened  to  her  words ;  declaring  they 


4o6  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK  JUNE. 

loved  her  already.  They  set  about  planning  the  day,  the  hour, 
and  a  dainty  tea. 

The  next  day,  in  one  of  the  square  front  chambers,  amid  chatter- 
ings,  suggestions  and  laughter,  the  three  girlish  heads  of  Caro, 
Ida  andFanny,  bent  over  a  delicate  sheet  of  note  paper,  framing 
the  invitation  for  the  succeeding  afternoon.     Ida  held  the  pen. 

"  Do  not  begin  so  high,"  advised  Caro.  "  Dear  me  !  such  a  giddy- 
headed  thing.  I'll  warrant  you  will  send  regrets  that  you  are  not  a 
Southerner  yourself,  before  you  finish." 

Ida  threw  up  her  hands  with  nervous  exultation. 

"Well  then,  I  will  confess  —  I  covet  —  I  covet  that  white- 
footed  pony.  I  covet  the  life  of  ease  and  travel  a  Southerner 
enjoys.  I  want  to  go  to  the  Springs  every  summer,  and  to  Europe 
—  and  I  would  not  object  seriously  to  a  few  diamonds." 

"  Fie  !  Ida.  Papa  has  a  bad  tare  growing  in  his  wheat,  I  fear. 
Let  me  write  it.  Fanny,  seems  to  me  this  looks  a  little  like  sub- 
serviency." 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  was  the  quick  reply.  "  It  is  at  her  own 
request." 

The  note  was  sent  by  the  hired  man  when  he  came  in  to  dinner. 
The  next  morning  filled  the  spacious  apartments  with  another  pleas- 
ant excitement.  Fanny's  chamber  was  to  be  used  as  the  dressing- 
room  of  the  guest,  to  which  she  would  be  first  conducted.  Joyful 
voices  echoed  across  the  wide  hall.  A  panorama  passed  before 
the  open  windows,  of  beaming  eyes,  rosy  faces,  and  hands  filled 
with  flowers. 

"  Three  waiting-maids  for  one  princess,"  said  Mrs.  Glenly,  unex- 
pectedly appearing  among  them.     "  All  is  ready  below  stairs." 

"Three  wailing  maids  for  Frederick  Douglass,  also,  if  he  would 
honor  us  with  his  presence,"  replied  Caro. 

"True,"  joined  Fanny.  "  Richard  met  him  at  the  convention  at 
Nantucket.  Your  father  was  there  at  that  time,  Ida.  Frederick 
Douglass  astonished  his  hearers  by  the  intellectual  power  of  his 
address." 

"  You  know  Mr.  Garrison  said  in  his  speech  following,  that  he 
was  a  living  witness  of  the  justice  of  the  severest  condemnation  he 
had  ever  uttered  of  slavery.     And  yet,  Douglass  had  been  held  at 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  407 

the  South,  as  a  piece  of  property,  a  chattel,  and  had  been  treated 
as  if  he  were  a  domesticated  brute." 

"  Papa  was  delighted  with  him  ;  and  when  he  comes,  his  wait- 
ing-maids will  festoon  the  gentlemen's  guest-chamber  with  flowers," 
said  Caro. 

Early  in  the  afternoon,  the  young  lady  was  seen  walking  up  the 
green  carpeted  avenue,  followed  by  a  short,  black  servant,  evi- 
dently on  excellent  terms  with  her  mistress  ;  for  both  were  smiling 
and  talking  busily.  The  ladies  met  her  at  the  door ;  Ida  showed 
her  up  stairs.  Her  short,  high-shouldered  servant  followed.  She 
wore  a  starched,  white  turban,  dotted  with  blue,  covering  all  her 
hair  ;  a  plain  black  dress,  and  a  white  apron.  She  untied  the  pale 
green  ribbons  of  her  mistress'  white  chip  hat,  and  lifted  it  from 
her  head.  The  hat  was  surrounded  by  a  yellow  jasmine  wreath, 
which  trailed  down  her  shoulders,  and  was  a  fac-simile  of  her  own 
Southern  vines.  Her  servant  shook  out  the  auburn  curls  of  her 
mistress'  luxuriant  hair ;  took  from  her  basket  a  brush,  ran  her 
quick  eye  over  the  elegant  muslin  dress,  carefully  removing  every 
atom  of  road  dust  from  the  rich  embroidered  flounces,  and  from 
her  pale  green  slippers.  She  untangled  the  points  of  Parisian  lace 
about  Leonore's  throat,  from  the  pearl  pendants  at  her  ears. 

"Toad,"  said  the  mistress,  "give  me  my  fan." 

"  No,  mistress,  mus  fan  you  darlin  face  myself." 

She  took  her  place  a  little  back  of  her,  moving  the  air  gently, 
and  looking  steadily  at  her  mistress. 

"  No  Toad,  no.  I  am  a  Northerner  to-day.  Give  me  the  fan  ; 
you  followed  me  for  your  own  gratification,  you  know." 

They  descended  to  the  parlor. 

"  Toad,  you  can  go  to  the  kitchen  ;  perhaps  you  can  be  useful 
there ;  unless  (turning  to  Mrs.  Glenly,)  the  ladies  wish  you  to  re- 
main ;   either  course  will  be  equally  satisfactory  to  me." 

"  Let  her  remain,"  eagerly  spoke  Caro,  "  if  agreeable  to  your- 
self." 

"Most  certainly,  my  dear.  Toad,  we  are  both  Northerners  to- 
day. Now  mind,  my  lady,  you  are  not  to  be  hands  and  feet  for 
me.  Please  yourself  j  you  will  not  give  offence  to  these  ladies,  I 
am  sure." 

They  entered  the  parlor.     Fanny  rose  from  her  chair. 


4o8  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  An  unexpected  surprise,  but  most  welcome,"  said  Leonore, 
advancing  and  taking  both  her  hands.  "  My  sweet  Fanny  !  my 
modest  Puritan  of  the  chaise." 

'•  I  am  not  sure  that  I  can  claim  that  ancestral  honor." 

'*  Pardon !  but  we  call  all  nativ^es  of  Massachusetts  Puritans  — 
the  posterity  of  the  '  May  Flower.'  It  is  doubtless  more  beseeming 
to  use  your  true  patronymic  ;  but  — " 

"  A  thousand  pardons,"  said  Caro.  "  It  is  Beame,  Fanny 
Beame." 

"  I  cannot  be  wrong  in  supposing  then,  that  knightly  blood  flows 
in  the  veins  of  the  young  cavalier  who  sprang  so  gallantly  to  my 
side  after  that  ignominious  fall  into  the  sand.  His  delicate  atten- 
tions were  the  soul  of  chivalry." 

"  Richard  Beame  is  my  brother,  Miss  Wallace.  He  has  a 
knightly  heart  towards  all  who  suffer  ;  but  he  questions  not  his 
blood,  for  he  says  all  men  are  created  of  one  blood." 

"  My  second  lesson  from  those  fearless  lips.  *  I  do  not  wear  dia- 
monds ; '  and  '  all  men  are  created  of  one  blood.'  I  should  be  a 
learner  at  so  pure  a  fountain  of  truth;"  and  she  sealed  her  admira- 
tion by  a  kiss,  archly  stolen. 

After  a  gentle  pressure,  she  dropped  Fanny's  hand,  and  sat  by 
the  open  window  in  the  playing  light  and  shade  of  the  waving  elms. 
Toad,  with  the  feeling  ever  present  to  a  slave,  withdrew  to  the 
lawn,  the  garden,  and  finally  to  the  kitchen. 

Fanny  was  busily  revolving  in  her  mind  how  the  young  lady 
would  interpret  "  all  men,"  with  her  usual  freedom  of  comment. 
Caro  took  up  her  fine  hemming  ;  Ida  sat  furtively  studying  Leo- 
nore's  costly  and  elegant  attire.  The  guest  addressed  Mrs.  Glenly, 
requesting  that  her  presence  should  be  no  restraint  upon  a  full  in- 
terchange of  opinion  —  expressing  regret  that  the  North  and  South 
were  in  such  bitter  antagonism  ;  which  was  doubtless  the  source  of 
misrepresentations,  tending  to  aggravate  controversy  and  ill  will. 

An  ingenuous  and  benignant  smile  sweetened  the  reply. 

"  There  is  no  antagonism  on  our  part,  my  dear.  We  believe  the 
enslavement  of  human  beings  a  transgression  of  the  divine  design 
of  God  towards  man.  We  believe  in  the  utter  wickedness  of  bond- 
age j  and  we  pledge  '  our  lives,  our  fortunes,  and  our  sacred  honor  ' 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  409 

to  the  cause  of  universal  freedom ;  but  our  means  of  convincing 
those  in  error  are  entirely  pacific." 

"  I  am  greatly  surprised,  dear  Mrs.  Glenly ;  there  must  be  gross 
misconstruction  upon  the  Southern  side.  May  I  ask  what  are 
those  means  ? " 

"  Certainly !  they  are  the  moral  and  harmless  weapons  of  argu- 
ment, discussion  and  persuasion.  We  exercise  the  former  two 
in  our  families,  and  in  conventions,  as  the  church  in  its  associa- 
tions devises  the  best  means  of  propagating  truth.  The  latter  we 
use  as  opportunity  may  occur  —  but  always,  my  dear  Miss  Wallace, 
with  the  most  peaceable  intentions." 

"  We  are  well  aware,"  said  Caro,  dropping  her  hemming,  *'  that 
the  South,  as  a  whole,  brand  us  as  incendiaries,  dangerous  agita- 
tors and  fanatics." 

"Also,"  said  Mrs.  Glenly,  "that  we  have  destructive  designs 
against  the  Union  ;  that  we  sow  discord  in  the  national  councils ; 
and  that  we  violate  the  Constitution," 

"  That  is  very  true,"  replied  Leonore  with  great  gentleness  ;  "  our 
Southern  men  profess  to  believe  that  the  Northern  abolitionists 
would  incite  insurrection  amoi>g  the  slaves  ;  that  they  would  carry 
death  to  every  door.  Their  acerbity  is  the  result  of  fear,  and  a 
laudable  effort  for  self-protection." 

Fanny  met  this  with  a  pithy  Bible  proverb, — 

"'The  wicked  flee  when  no  man  pursueth.'  I  think  the  slave- 
holder's conscience  must  pursue  him,  as  his  ferocious  bloodhounds 
pursue  the  flying  fugitive." 

Mrs.  Glenly  and  Caro  were  startled.  Serious  alarm  for  their 
guest  plead  in  their  eyes. 

"  I  fear  we  are  wanting  in  consideration  for  our  friend  ;  that  we 
may  give  offence,"  said  the  former. 

"  My  dear  ladies,  do  not  indulge  a  thought  of  it.  It  is  true,  I 
have  been  raised  mostly  in  the  South,  that  I  have  been  taught  to 
believe  slavery  a  divine  institution,  sanctioned  by  scripture,  and 
the  usages  of  nations;  but,  like  yourselves,  I  reserve  to  myself  the 
right  of  unbiased  judgment.  I  sought  this  introduction."  Then 
turning  to  Fanny  with  an  approving  smile,  she  said,  "  You  are 
right  and  wrong  at  the  same  moment,  Miss  Fanny.  The  proverb 
is  truth  —  but  in   the  main,  the  consciences  of  slaveholders  are,  in 


41 0  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

sacred  language,  seared.  The  absolute  conditions  of  holding  one's 
own  species  in  bondage  necessitates  the  blunting  of  every  moral 
obligation.  Ah  !  "  and  with  a  sigh  she  added,  "these  conditions 
callous  every  tender  sensibility.  They  feel  no  compunctions. 
Instead,  they  feel  an  untamed  ra^^e  towards  those  who  advocate  a 
policy  of  final  freedom." 

'•  Not  final,  simply,  or  convenient  delay;  but  immediate  eman- 
cipation," said  Caro,  "is  our  watchword.  Immediate  abandon- 
ment of  sin  is  God's  alternative." 

"Immediate  emancipation!  I  shudder!  Do  I  hear  aright? 
Immediate  emancipation!  Do  you  realize,  my  dear  Caro,  what  it 
is  to  cast  forth,  without  shelter,  clothing  or  ability  millions  of  these 
helpless  creatures  to  the  cruel  mercies  of  rapacious  masters? 
Why,"  and  she  lifted  her  white  hands  in  horror,  "  they  cannot 
speak  our  language  clearly  ;  they  cannot  read  ;  they  cannot  think 
for  themselves ;  but  few  of  them  can  count  even  to  twenty  ;  they 
are  reduced  by  our  laws  to  the  lowest  of  abject  beings." 

"  Doubtless  their  emancipation  would  be  attended  with  much 
suffering  at  first;  but  Freedom  would  soon  work  out  her  own  beau- 
tiful salvation.  Inspired  by  the  blessed  results  of  their  own  efforts, 
they  would  work  out  a  glorious  manhood  and  womanhood  ;  equal 
to  that  we  ourselves  enjoy." 

"  How^  Miss  Caro  ? " 

"In  the  same  way  that  every  human  capacity  works  out  its  own 
problem.  The  evidence  is  before  the  world.  In  our  cities,  in 
spite  of  the  obstacles  of  Caste,  which  is  the  fruit  of  slavery,  there 
are  colored  men  and  women  of  wealth  and  refinement,  nobly  main- 
taining an  honorable  standing." 

"The  Southerner  knows  that,"  interposed  Fanny;  "knows  that 
the  human  soul  which  he  lashes  into  subjection,  which  he  holds 
beneath  him  manacled  by  state  and  national  laws,  would  rise  into 
a  proud  equality  with  himself  if  those  bonds  were  broken.  Hence 
the  untamed  rage,  of  which  you  made  mention,  towards  us,  the  ad- 
vocates of  Freedom.  For  the  leaders  in  the  anti-slavery  crusade, 
there  are  offers  of  five,  ten,  and  twenty  thousand  dollars  for  their 
abduction  or  death.  To  such  daring  deeds  of  premeditated  mur- 
der does  the  spirit  of  human  slavery  induct  its  devotees." 

Mrs.  Glenly  related  the  persecutions  of  the  mob  in  New  York, 


WHITE   MAY,   AND      BLACK  JUNE.  41 1 

called  together  by  "Many  Southerners"  to  prevent  a  meeting  of 
the  friends  of  "  Immediate  Abolition."  She  drew  the  repulsive 
picture  of  the  riot  at  the  closed  gates  ;  of  their  repeated  offers  of 
Ten  Thousand  Dollars  for  Arthur  Tappan  ;  of  their  blood-thirsty 
entrance,  and  finally  of  the  pursuit  of  that  gentleman  through  the 
unlighted  main  hall  of  the  chapel,  by  one  of  the  mob,  with  a  light 
and  a  drawn  dagger;  of  the  janitor,  who  saw  the  villain,  blew  out 
the  light,  and  then  took  refuge  in  one  of  the  slips,  foiling  the 'as- 
sassin with  darkness,  and  saving  the  life  of  one  of  the  most  Chris- 
tian men  of  the  century. 

"The  blood  chills  at  the  recital  of  these  facts,"  said  Leonore; 
"but,  my  friends,  they  cannot  be  denied.  They  are  a  subject  of 
conversation  in  Charleston,  my  own  city,  and  in  the  South  gen- 
erally. I  know  the  name  and  standing  of  the  very  pursuer  of  ^Ir. 
Tappan.  I  have  seen  the  dagger,  and  heard  the  curses  upon  its 
failure  to  reach  the  heart  of  its  intended  victim.  I  blush  with 
shame  for  the  guilt  of  my  fellow- citizens! 

"  It  is  gratifying  to  hear  your  deprecation  of  the  high-handed 
assumption  of  the  South ;  and  yet,  sanguinary  impulses  are  but  the 
inseparable  concomitants  of  the  practice  of  enslavement.  How  is 
it,  may  I  inquire,"  gently  asked  ^Irs.  Glenly,  "  that  your  moral  per- 
ceptions are  so  much  clearer  than  those  of  most  other  Southern 
ladies  ?  for  (allow  me  to  say  this  without  offence)  it  is  considered 
that  the  women  of  the  South  are  more  tenacious  of  Southern  rights 
than  the  men  ;  that  they  are  more  violent  towards  Northern  advo- 
cates of  Freedom." 

"  My  moral  perceptions  are  quite  obtuse,  my  dear  madame.  I 
only  see  '  men  as  trees  walking,'  yet ;  "  and  a  burst  of  pleasant  laugh- 
ter warmed  each  heart  present.  "  My  acquaintance  South  call  this, 
my  inherent  love  of  freedom,  a  'taint  in  the  blood.'  I  am  a  Wal- 
lace, my  dear  ladies,  of  Scotch  genealogy.  On  that  ground  they 
generally  pardon  my  eccentricities,  as  they  are  graciously  pleased 
to  term  the  frank  expression  of  my  convictions.  Besides,  my  father 
holds  many  slaves,  and  his  sturdy  Scotch  blood  has  become  the 
American  blue,  by  frequent  admixture  with  the  highest  aristocra- 
cies of  his  adopted  land." 

Fanny  dropped  her  work,  and  rested  her  busy  hands.  She  was 
finishing  some  pretty  aprons  for  little  dark  Addie  Hughes,  that  her 


412  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK  JUNE. 

dress  might  win  to  kindness  the  fair-skinned  children  of  the  village 
school.  She  looked  smilingly,  but  with  a  searching  gaze  into  the 
frank,  blue  eyes  of  Leonore. 

"  If  we  cherish  the  dawning  light  of  truth  in  our  thoughts,  its 
brightness  will  advance  to  the  perfect  day.  We  are  judged  by  the 
acceptance  or  refusal  of  this  light,  rather  than  by  blood." 

Leonore  returned  her  gaze  with  a  mingling  of  curiosity  and  ad- 
miration. She  was  well  versed  in  the  suavities  of  social  intercourse, 
which  pass  smoothly  over  disagreeable  asperities,  ever  preserving 
a  well-studied  and  deceptive  calm ;  but  this  plain^  unvarnished 
manner  of  bringing  subjects  under  discussion  to  the  test  of  con- 
science, was  to  her  analytical  turn  of  mind  something  new  and  in- 
teresting. 

"Faithfully  expressed.  Miss  Fanny,"  said  Leonore.  "In  the 
South,  blood  stands  for  a  catalogue  of  virtues  —  blood  stands  for 
justice^  and,  I  imagine,  for  conscience.  For  myself,  I  do  not  value 
this  spurious  coin  ;  but  having  been  raised  there  and  nurtured  on 
error,  I  cannot  clearly  discern  the  truth,  myself." 

"  Fanny  dear,"  remarked  Mrs.  Glenly,  "  let  us  credit  Miss  Wal- 
lace with  a  desij-e  for  truth.  That  is  the  first  approach  to  the  '  per- 
fect day.'  She  could  have  had  no  other  object,  for  we  never  deny 
its  principles." 

Fanny,  fearlessly  true  to  her  own  impulses,  replied, — 

"You  know,  Mrs.  Glenly,  one  of  our  principles  is  to  abjure  what- 
ever is  false.  Now,  if  Miss  Wallace  learn  and  cherish  truth  in  her 
own  soul,  of  what  use  will  it  be  when  she  returns  where  truth  is  ex- 
pelled, and  falsehood  embraced  .'*  " 

"  We  are  to  understand,  then,  that  you  would  have  Miss  Wallace 
not  only  yield  to  convictions  of  the  right,  but  come  out  and  sepa- 
rate herself  from  the  South  and  its  practices." 

"  I  wish  to  be  so  understood,"  answered  Fanny,  firmly. 

*'  Miss  Wallace  could  not  entertain  for  a  moment  the  idea  o£ 
being  a  refugee  from  the  most  agreeable  and  seductive  poriicn  of 
our  land,  I  am  sure.  The  bare  suggestion  would  be  a  terror  to 
me  !'''  said  Ida. 

"  I  beg  to  correct  your  mistake.  Miss  Ida,"  said  Leonore.  "  I 
have   entertained   many   thoughts    of   leaving    the    South.       Miss 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  413 

Fanny's  logic  is  irresistible.  Truth  and  justice  find  no  place 
there." 

Ida  persisted  in  the  senseless  flattery,  by  reminding  Fanny  of 
the  late  evidence  of  Southern  justice  in  that  very  house,  and  under 
their  own  eyes." 

Leonore  would  ask  for  information,  if  the  request  would  not  be 
intrusive. 

"A  Southern  master  —  yes,  a  Charleston  master,  restored  a 
young  and  valuable  slave  to  liberty,  and  gave  him  a  deed  of  him- 
self.    His  guardian  brought  him  here  for  a  week." 

"  Pray  what  was  his  name  ?  " 

"  Ishmael  Paisley." 

"  Is  it  possible  that  Issy  has  passed  a  week  in  this  town,  and 
gone  again  ?  Why,  my  dear  ladies,  his  master's  family  are  inti- 
mate acquaintances.  I  think  I  should  explain  to  you  the  quality  of 
this  example  of  justice,  for  the  facts  are  well  known  to  others  as 
well  as  myself." 

INIrs.  Glenly  assured  Leonore  that  all  would  be  happy  to  hear. 

"Issy's  master  is  his  own  father.  You  are  shocked.  Miss  Fanny, 
but  it  is  true.  Doctor  Paisley's  daughter,  J^Iistress  Theresa  Val- 
monte,  knew  the  relation  he  bore  to  her  and  her  father.  A 
stranger  beholding  them,  w^ould  have  guessed  the  truth  by  their 
marked  resemblance  to  their  father  and  to  each  other.  At  her 
marriage,  as  the  custom  is,  Issy  was  given  to  Theresa.  As  he  grew 
older,  the  family  resemblance  heightened  ;  Doctor  Paisley's  son  and 
pet  became  an  annoyance.  Theresa  Valmonte  mortgaged  her 
brother  Issy  for  future  sale,  she  being  in  pressing  need  of  funds. 
Doctor  Paisley  received  a  hint  of  this  from  his  factor,  and  purchased 
his  pet  son  himself.  Hence  his  free  papers  and  guardianship.  I 
denominate  that  motive  affection^  not  justice,  ladies.  By  justice, 
he  would  free  every  slave  impartially." 

"  You  are  right,"  decided  Fanny  and  Caro  in  one  breath. 

"  There  is  no  obliquity  in  your  natural  vision  !  "  Miss  Leonore 
said. 

Mrs.  Glenly,  with  affectionate  admiration  for  the  brave  girl  who 
offered  no  compromise  for  the  fatal  errors  of  her  beloved  South, 
withdrew  wdth  her  daughters  to  prepare  the  tea-table. 

'*  My  dear  Fanny,"  said   Leonore,  drawing  near  to  her,  "  there 


414  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

must  be  a  similarity  between  us,  despite  the  apparent  difference. 
I  like  the  flash  of  your  glittering  spear.  I  dearly  love  the  incisive 
utterances  that  fall  from  your  lips.  Your  lofty  conceptions  of  hu- 
man obligations  drop  into  my  confused  early  teaching  like  the  boom 
of  a  minute  gun,  in  a  fog  at  sea.  I  envy  the  circumstances  of  your 
birth  and  life,  which  foster  purity  of  conscience  and  freedom  of 
speech." 

"One  more  minute  gun,  my  dear  friend.  You  have  power  to 
leave  the  South  with  all  its  sins,  and  to  develope  your  beautifully 
strong  nature  in  a  more  moral  atmosphere.  That  would  be  a 
heroism  which  would  reduce  us  abolitionists  to  pigmies." 

"  My  dear  Fanny,"  pleaded  Leonore,  "  do  you  love  your  home, 
the  place  of  your  birth  .?  I  love  mine.  Do  you  love  your  brother, 
and  your  parents.?  Just  so  do  I  love  mine.  Do  you  love  the 
rush  of  your  Northern  breezes  and  your  Northern  snows  ?  So,  I 
love  the  Southern  balmy  airs  and  our  flowers  perpetual  bloom." 

"  But  Leonore,  our  Savior  bade  us  leave  all  and  follow  Him. 
*  Whosoever  loveth  Christ  cannot  remain  a  slave-holder  or  partake 
in  the  crimes  of  slavery.'  'If  thine  eye  offend  thee,  pluck  it  out ; 
if  thy  hand  offend  thee,  cut  it  off.'  " 

"Ah!  thou  youthful  seer,  something  divine  inspires  thee!  I 
love  thee,  though  thou  slayest  me !  " 

She  hid  her  face  in  her  delicate  hands.  Her  slender,  jeweled 
fingers  were  wet  with  tear-drops.  Then  dashing  them  apart,  she 
rose  nervously,  and  drew  Fanny  to  the  open  piano.  She  sang  an 
Italian  song,  caroling  the  runs  and  trills  like  a  lark. 

The  whole  house  was  spell-bound.  Mr.  Glenly,  in  his  shirt 
sleeves,  paused  on  the  kitchen  steps.  ]Mrs.  Glenly,  butter-dish  in 
hand,  stopped  half  way  on  the  cellar  stairs.  Caro  and  Ida  dropped 
forks  and  napkins  and  held  their  breath,  lest  a  note  should  be  lost. 
Again  her  fingers  rippled  over  the  keys,  with  the  swiftness  of  hum- 
mingbirds* wings  ;  again  her  delicious  voice  poured  forth  its  sweet- 
ness in  a  shower  of  graces.  Those  in  the  kitchen  remained 
statuesque.  Fanny's  expression  was  of  rapt  adoration.  The  last 
high,  sustained,  flute-like  note  floated  away  up  the  stairways  and 
among  the  elms. 

The  scene  was  ended.  Leonore  whirled  around  on  the  piano* 
seat,  face  to  face  with  Fanny, 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  415 

"  There  !  that  is  all  I  am  good  for  !  If  I  leave  my  home,  I  shall 
be  disowned  and  disinherited,  cast  out  friendless  and  penniless. 
I  cannot  labor  —  have  never  learned  to  hold  a  needle.  Poverty 
would  be  my  portion,  after  the  life  of  ease  and  luxury  which  was 
inherited  with  my  breath.  Oh  !  I  shudder,  dear  Fann}^  I  could 
not  endure  poverty  !  " 

Summoned  by  the  tea  bell.  Toad  stepped  in  quietly,  to  follow 
her  mistress  to  the  table. 

"  Ah  !  Toad  ;  I  had  forgotten  that  I  own  a  slave.  Remain  here. 
This  young  lady  is  my  guardian  angel  at  present." 

She  walked  on,  her  arm  thrown  about  Fanny's  waist. 

After  tea,  which  Leonore  discussed  with  social  ease  and  gener- 
ous praise,  Caro  propounded  a  question  which  opened  a  mine  of 
general  interest. 

"  Who  was  Ishmael's  mother  ?  " 

"  She  was  the  pastry  cook  of  Doctor  Paisley  —  a  slave  of  very 
dark  color,"  was  the  prompt  reply,  while  scanning  the  faces  of  her 
auditors  She  read  their  astonishment  and  incredulity ;  then 
added,  "Doctor  Paisley  is  a  gentleman  of  commanding  precedents, 
of  high-toned  pride,  of  lineage  running  back  to  Prince  Albert's 
time.  All  this  is  supported  by  a  copy  of  the  ancient  coat  of  arms, 
carefully  preserved." 

A  half  smothered,  derisive  laugh  rippled  about  the  room,  to 
which  Leonore  gave  an  assuring  emphasis  with  a  jeweled  finger. 

Caro  proposed  another  question. 

"  How  is  Doctor  Paisley's  truant  course  regarded  by  other  high- 
toned  Southern  gentlemen  .?  I  should  judge  he  would  incur  their 
displeasure  and  sever  some  valuable  intimacies." 

"  Not  in  the  least,  Miss  Caro ;  a  tacit  assent  to  these  departures 
is  prevalent." 

"  Yet  v.-e  of  the  North,"  said  Mrs.  Glenly,  "  are  flagrantly 
accused  of  desiring  amalgamation  by  marriage,  which  they  denomi- 
nated a  crime,  detestable  in  their  sight ;  while  they  practice  the 
same  in  a  surreptitious  form  of  concubinage." 

*'  Another  smooth  stone  for  my  sling,"  thought  Fanny. 

Conversation  flagged.  Mrs.  Glenly  proposed  to  drop  the  dis- 
agreeable subject.  There  was  more  of  Leonore's  wonderful  music. 
There  were  the  simple  ballads  and  duets  of  the  Glenlys.     Last  of 


41 6  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

all,  there  was  the  "  Brides  Farewell,"  by  Fanny,  charmed  away  to 
the  piano  by  Leonore,  after  the  vain  remonstrance, — 

"How  can  I  sing  to  a  song-throated  bird  of  the  South?"  and 
receiving  the  answer, — 

"  Sing  as  you  talk  to  me.     Sing  like  yourself." 

At  Fanny's  first  line, 

"  Farewell,  mother,  now  I  leave  thee," 

the  proud  face  of  the  beautiful  girl  blanched.  Through  the  remain- 
ing lines,  it  seemed  that  Fanny  was  playing  upon  her  heartstrings. 
Her  agitation  was  observed  by  the  other  ladies,  but  they  knew  not 
the  secret  of  Leonore's  agitation  ;  knew  not  that  her  thoughts  were 
far  away  in  her  native  city  ;  that  she  stood  not  by  the  piano,  but  by 
a  student's  chair  in  her  uncle's  office,  looking  down  into  the  pure, 
adoring  eyes  of  its  young  occupant.  They  suspected  not  that  she 
was  bracing  herself  for  the  future  struggle  with  the  unbending 
pride  and  unforgiving  caste  of  her  native  State,  in  the  determination 
to  marry  the  young  Northern  student-at-law  in  her  uncle's  office, 
to  whom  she  had  already  given  her  heart. . 

Each  attributed  the  change  in  Leonore  to  fatigue ;  therefore,  in 
the  midst  of  the  last  verse,  the  performer  was  interrupted  by  Mrs. 
Glenly,  standing  by, — 

"  Fanny  dear,  excuse  me.  Miss  Wallace  is  weary  ;"  and  with  her 
arm  about  the  pale  girl,  she  drew  her  to  the  sofa,  saying,  "  Our  ad- 
amantine creed  has  been  too  exciting  for  you,  darling.  Come 
away,  let  us  talk  about  blackberries." 

Her  color  returned.     She  replied, — 

"  Oh  !  certainly,  let  us  talk  about  blackberries  ;  for  I  so  desire  to 
go  myself  after  them." 

''Miss  Wallace  can  ride  *Marmion'  to  the  field,  and  we  will 
walk  beside  her.  Her  servant,  Toad,  can  pick  her  berries  while 
she  rests  in  the  shade,"  said  Ida. 

"  Oh  !  no,  Miss  Ida,  by  no  means.  You  mistake  me.  I  shall 
walk  with  the  party,  and  share  the  pleasure  of  picking  the  berries, 
myself.     I  am  endeavoring  to  become  partially  Northernized   this 


summer." 


So  in  great  glee  the  field  was  selected  where  the  berries  were 
thickest,  and  the  time  appointed. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  417 

When  taking  leave  of  the  family,  Leonore  thanked  Mrs.  Glenly 
for  the  day's  enjoyment.  She  had  never  before  entered  an  anti- 
slavery  family.  She  had  found  her  views  most  happily  modified. 
Soliciting  an  interchange  of  visits  and  calls  during  her  stay, 
taking  Fanny's  hand  for  the  good-night,  she  said  affectionately, — 

"  Remember  you  have  a  Southerner  under  your  eye  ;  make  the 
most  of  the  opportunity." 

A  great  wave  of  gossip  tided  over  the  village  of  West  Elms. 
Women  left  their  churns  and  their  early  breakfast  dishes,  to  loiter 
over  the  garden  fences  separating  the  white  houses,  and  talk,  with 
bursts  of  gayety  and  ominous  gestures  over  the  late  event.  Girls 
gathered  in  knots  on  the  door  steps,  or  along  the  green-bordered 
street,  and  fairly  lost  their  breath  with  merriment  over  the  rapid 
details.  Men  in  the  fields,  in  their  shirt  sleeves,  leaned  on  their 
hoes  or  rakes  amid  the  harvest,  repeating  the  hearsay,  holding 
their  stalwart  sides  with  laughter. 

*'  Have  you  heard  the  news .?  "  saj^s  one. 

"  No,  what  is  it  ? " 

"  Mrs.  Donald's  house  is  full  of  Southerners  and  slaves.  That 
young  lady's  mother  has  come  ;  that  Miss  Wallace,  you  know,  that 
rides  the  black  pony.  Well,  there's  her  mother  and  her  brother, 
a  tall  handsome  man,  a  black  waiting-man  for  him,  and  a  mulatto 
maid  for  Mrs.  Wallace.  They  came  in  an  elegant  carriage  with 
a  pair  of  horses.  There's  the  black  coachman,  dressed  in  livery, 
and  a  young,  brown  footman.  So  with  Miss  Leonore  Wallace's 
servant,  there's  three  Southerners  and  five  slaves." 

"  Oh  !  you  don't  say.     The  house  must  be  full  ;  too  full  for  me." 

"  But  that  is  not  the  best  of  it  all.  Now  hear.  You  see  they  came 
unexpected,  and  Miss  Wallace  had  a  party  of  girls  there  —  amongst 
them,  the  abolitionist  Glenlys  and  their  visitor.  They  had  all  been 
blackberrying  and  were  picking  over  the  berries.  Leonore  ran  to 
the  carriage  with  her  hands  stained  with  the  juice.  Her  mother 
uttered  interjectional  screams,  and  cried, — 

"  <  What  is  the  matter  with  my  daughter's  hands  ? ' 

"'Oh  !  I've  just  been  blackberrying,  mamma.' 

" '  My  daughter  Leonore  will  condescend  to  degrade  herself  in 
this  manner !  I  am  mortified  beyond  expression  with  your  vul- 
garity ! ' 


4l8  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  '  What  silly  ideas  !  Vulgarity  indeed,  then  we  are  vulgar  ar 
West  Elms,'  and  the  speaker  s  lips  pursed  up  with  wounded  self- 
respect. 

"  Hear  the  rest.  It  is  too  ridiculous.  Mrs.  Wallace  actually 
entered  the  house  weeping  over  the  blackberry  stains.  After 
ordering  her  hands  washed  and  bathed  in  the  'milk  of  roses,'  she 
examined  them  again  —  then  horror  of  horrors  !  " 

At  this  point  of  the  pretty  scandal,  they  were  inevitably  seized 
with  convulsive  laughter,  breaking  up  the  relation  into  in  coher- 
ency. 

"  Do  tell  what  happened  next !  ha !  ha  !  ha !  " 

"  Oh !  let  me  breathe.  There.  I've  laughed  myself  to  tears. 
Now  hush.  As  I  was  saying,  she  examined  the  fingers,  and  found 
marks  on  the  joints,  and  the  cuticle  broken  in  various  places. 

"  '  Alas  !  my  daughter,  what  is  this  ? '  turning  very  pale. 

" '  A  trifle,  mamma.  I  have  been  washing  a  few  embroideries 
and  laces.     Among  the  Romans,  do  as  the  Romans  do.' 

"  'Leonore  !  I  command  you  to  cease  these  offensive  comparisons. 
Do  you  compare  the  incomparable  Romans  with  the  labor-soiled, 
grovelling  Northerners ;  and  must  you  grovel  with  them  .?  The 
idea  is  repugnant  to  every  feeling  in  my  breast.  Look  at  these 
once  delicate  hands,  bruised  and  torn,  ragged  and  defaced.  What 
an  infamy.  Alas  !  Leonore  ;  have  you  abandoned  every  claim  to 
your  ancestral  dignity  ? '  " 

"Sublimely  ridiculous  !  "  ejaculated  the  listeners.  "  So  we  have 
blue  blood  in  our  town.     Lackada}^  what  a  pity." 

"  Leave  your  laughter  now,  and  hear  me  through.  Put  on  your 
solemn  faces.  Let  your  hearts  ache.  The  woman  fell  over  the 
arm  of  the  sofa  and  actually  began  to  faint,  a  fitting  climax  to  such 
acting.  After  being  brought  to,  by  the  use  of  salts,  she  sent  post 
haste  for  the  doctor,  declared  to  him  that  the  alarming  state  of 
Leonore  would  deprive  her  of  sleep,  if  he  did  not  remedy  her  con- 
dition immediately." 

"What  did  the  man  do?  He  should  have  prescribed  another 
healthy  dose  of  washing,  as  the  best  restorative." 

"  Oh,  he  put  on  his  official  solemnity,  and  swathed  Leonore's 
fingers  in  medicated  fine  linen.  She  is  under  the  doctor's  daily 
care  at  last  reports.     Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  " 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  419 

■"  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  "  all  round. 

Farmer  Bing  down  in  the  meadow,  went  on  whetting  his  scythe 
while  he  listened  ;  and,  as  his  bare,  brawny  arm  plied  to  and  fro 
on  the  ringing  blade,  his  white,  firm  teeth  gleamed  slowly  out  from 
his  pleased  lips,  and  his  keen  eyes  beamed  under  his  sun-browned 
hat.  When  all  was  told,  before  his  mouth  had  returned  to  its 
gravity,  he  said, — 

"  Well,  I  guess  we  ought  to  give  that  Southern  girl  that  rides 
that  little  black  horse,  some  credit.  I  b'lieve  it'll  take  a  good  deal 
of  that  nonsensical  palaver  to  make  her  \vhat  her  mother  wants 
her  to  be.  She's  got  a  noble,  good  look  in  her  face.  She  dropped 
her  whip  in  the  road  once,  this  summer.  I  was  coming  along  with 
a  load  of  hay,  and  picked  it  up  for  her.  She  thanked  me  as  pretty 
as  if  she  had  been  my  own  girl.  Then  she  said  I  had  a  fine  load 
of  hay,  and  asked  me  if  she  might  ride  down  in  the  meadow  with 
me  when  I  came  back.  I  told  her  to  go  out  to  the  bars,  and  wait 
till  I  came,  and  then  she  rode  clear  down  to  the  river,  her  horse 
side  by  side  with  the  oxen,  asking  me  questions  all  the  way." 

"  She's  got  spunk  enough  for  'em,  too.  After  she  got  in  the 
field,  she  says, — 

" '  May  I  ride  anywhere  ? ' 

"Says  I,  'Yes,  anywhere  I've  mowed.' 

"  So  she  tossed  her  hat  on  to  a  hay-cock,  and  went  galloping 
round  bare-headed,  like  a  circus  rider.  That  pony  and  she  ca- 
pered about  like  children.     I  guess  I  shall  have  to  stand  by  her." 

This  gossip  was  nevertheless  truth.  Leonore's  fingers  were 
bound  with  balms  and  mollifying  ointments.  Her  outgoings  and 
incomings  were  made  under  the  sharp  espoinage  of  her  high  caste 
mother. 

The  Glenlys  and  Fanny  fled  from  Mrs.  Donald's  rooms,  with  the 
rest  of  the  blackberry  party.  Mrs.  Gienly  comforted  the  refugees 
by  showing  them  that  these  various  expressions  of  Southern  life 
were  the  very  best  lessons  they  could  have,  as  they  were  drawn 
from  Nature. 

The  termination  of  Fanny's  visit  drew  near.  Just  the  day  be- 
fore the  one  appointed  for  leaving,  the  family  welcomed  again  with 
pleasant  surprise  the  Friend,  ]Mr.  Sterlingworth. 

"  I  was  at  East  Elms,"  he  said,  "  and  was   attracted  hither  for  a 


42  O  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

day  by  the  agreeable  memory  of  my  week  here  with  Ishmael." 

"  Where  is  Ishmael  ? "  sprang  from  all  lips. 

''With  a  family  near  Boston  ;  thy  brother  Richard's  suggestion, 
Fanny ; "  and  his  glance  turned  full  upon  her ;  neither  was  it 
quickly  withdrawn,  but  lingered  like  the  glory  of  a  summer  sunset, 
till  Fanny's  eyes  dropped  upon  her  folded  hands,  leaving  her  face 
suffused  with  the  hues  of  a  pinken  shell.  Nevertheless  the  inter- 
viewing proceeded  in  a  lively  manner  by  the  rest  of  the  family, 
while  Fanny  pondered  upon  a  new  mystery  of  life  just  opened  to 
her  view. 

During  the  day  she  found  herself  frequently  conning  this  mys- 
tery. She  had  not  the  baneful  experience  of  the  world,  which  maps 
out  the  ways  of  heart  and  soul  before  the  inexperienced  traveler. 
Despite  her  outspoken  sense  of  justice,  she  undervalued  herself,  in 
the  extreme  humility  to  which  she  had  attained.  So  the  new  mys- 
terious lesson  became  a  different  one. 

"  Strange  ! "  she  found  herself  soliloquizing,  "  I  have  dreaded 
this  last  day  of  my  stay  at  West  Elms  ;  the  parting  with  Caro  and 
dear  Mrs.  Glenly;  and  yet  this  is  the  happiest  day  of  my  visit. 
Ah  ! "  she  said  to  herself  religiously,  "  it  is  my  deceitful  heart ! 
ever  leading  I  know  not  whither  !  I  am  never  what  I  seem  !  My 
feet  will  stray  in  by  and  forbidden  paths." 

In  one  of  these  customary  attacks  of  abstraction,  while  her  ab- 
sent eye  wandered  among  the  tops  of  the  street  elms,  a  familiar 
voice  recalled  her. 

"  Come,  Fanny !  thy  thoughts  seem  to  soar  away  with  the  birds  ! 
come  back  to  earth  !  Let  us  take  a  farewell  stroll  to  the  orchard, 
and  then  to  the  river." 

Ere  she  was  aware,  her  fingers  were  laid  timidly  on  the  arm  of 
Mr.  Sterlingworth,  and  both  were  threading  the  mazes  of  red  and 
golden  fruit.  Nature  appeared  more  beautiful  to  her  than  ever 
before.  The  sky,  the  hills,  the  orchard  and  the  river  distilled  a 
new  and  strange  delight.  Mr.  Sterlingworth  also  seemed  to  her  to 
have  found  a  fresh  interest  in  all  she  held  dear ;  his  gentle  words 
flowed  out  in  harmony  wdth  her  every  thought. 

"  So  thou  takest  the  early  stage  for  home  to-morrow,  Fanny.  Hast 
thou  traveled  much  alone  ? " 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  421 

"  Never  before,  sir.  But  the  distance  is  short.  There  is  but 
one  change  in  the  stages  —  at  East  Elms." 

"  Wilt  thou  allow  me  the  honor  and  pleasure  of  being  thy  com- 
panion and  protector  ? " 

"  I  could  not  consent  to  give  you  that  trouble,  sir." 

"I  have  business  in  Cloudspire,  Fanny." 

He  paused  on  the  lawn  before  the  house  —  for  they  had  re- 
turned —  and  then  in  tones  which  added  music  to  his  words  he 
said, — 

"  It  would  be  more  than  a  pleasure,  I  assure  thee." 

The  next  morning  the  burly  stage-driver  hauled  up  his  four-in- 
hand  before  the  Glenly  gate.  It  is  needless  to  dwell  upon  the 
happy  security  Fanny  felt  in  being  handed  into  the  lumbering 
vehicle  by  the  strong  and  ready  arms  of  her  friend ;  and  amidst 
the  strange  and  crowded  faces  to  know  that  Mr.  Sterlingworth  was 
at  her  side.  His  delightful  conversation,  too,  relieved  the  tedium 
of  the  rocking,  jolting  miles.  She  even  found  the  journey  too 
short;  when  the  crack  of  the  driver's  whip  brought  the  panting 
horses  galloping  up  the  hill,  and  round  the  curve  in  front  of  the 
old  tavern  and  its  loungers  at  Alderbank. 

It  must  also  be  acknowledged  that  Fanny  felt  a  certain  proud 
satisfaction  in  being  handed  out  by  a  gentleman  whose  figure  and 
presence  demanded  the  respect  of  the  bystanders.  Truly  she  felt 
gratified  for  his  protection,  when  he  drew  her  arm  within  his  and 
led  her  to  the  sitting-room,  up  the  dingy  steps,  through  the  track- 
begrimmed  entry,  past  the  noisy  opened  door  of  the  bar-room  ;  and 
in  the  knowledge  that  her  baggage  would  be  withdrawn  from  the 
confused  pile  on  the  stage  without  her  interference. 

Surprise  took  the  place  of  other  emotions,  when  after  the  bustle 
of  departure,  he  entered  the  apartment,  and  with  the  same  tender- 
ness she  had  observed  on  the  morning  of  his  arrival  at  West  Elms, 
said, — 

"  With  thy  permission  Fanny,  I  will  attend  thee  home." 

He  drew  her  hand  upon  his  arm.  In  a  sweet  confusion  of  bash- 
ful timidity,  she  walked  by  his  side  up  the  long  street.  To  the 
prying  eyes  in  door-ways  and  curtained  windows  along  their  route, 
and  to  gossiping  tongues,  we  leave  the  significance  of  his  errand. 


422  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

MRS.  BUDDINGTON  and  Alfy  stood  at  the  east  window 
looking  eagerly  up  the  road  for  Thad.  It  was  nearing 
Christmas.  Winter  had  made  several  aggressive  skirmishes  on  the 
dallying  autumn  days,  till  the  ruddy-haired  nymphs  fled  out  of  sight, 
leaving  their  late  glorious  domain  to  his  pale  rigor.  Snow  was 
falling.  The  vision  of  the  watchers  extended  but  a  short  distance 
through  the  atmosphere,  thick  with  the  feathery  shower. 

"  Mother,  don't  you  think  the  snow  is  beautiful  .'*  See,  every- 
thing is  so  white  ;  the  barn,  the  shed  are  roofed  anew.  Every 
fence-rail,  ev^ery  branch  and  twig  are  heaped  with  it.  Mother, 
don't  you  like  it?  " 

"  Yes,  my  son,  I  do  admire  it.  Snow  is  like  a  pure  veil,  covering 
every  object  offensive  to  the  eye.  After  a  winter  snowstorm,  it 
seems  we  have  a  new  earth.  Observe  those  hemlocks,  Alfy  ;  they 
seem  to  have  put  on  white  mantles." 

He  leaned  his  head  on  his  mother's  shoulder,  and  threw  an  arm 
about  her  neck. 

*•  Shall  we  have  any  snow  in  Texas,  mother  ?  " 

"  No,  my  son  ;  no  snow,  no  ice.  The  climate  will  appear  to  us 
like  perpetual  summer.  The  sun  will  ride  higher  than  here,  in  the 
bluest  of  heavens.  We  shall  have  a  greater  variety  of  flowers, 
larger  and  more  splendid.  I  expect  these  blue  eyes  will  be  busy 
enough  with  the  blossoms,  the  gay  butterflies  and  bright  birds.** 
She  turned  to  look  into  those  eyes,  ever  calm  and  sunny. 

"  Father  will  be  better  there  too,  mother." 

"We  hope  so,  my  son  ;  his  health  is  the  prime  object  of  our 
removal.  We  hope  the  balmy  airs  of  the  South  will  be  strengthen- 
mcr  to  his  fragile  constitution." 

"  He  must  be  there  now,  mother ;  and  it  will  seem  to  him  like 
spring  amongst  the  flowers,  butterflies  and  birds.  I  guess  he 
misses  us  among  the  fiery  Southerners  and  Mexicans.  I  guess  he'd 
like  to  be  at  home  with  us  to-night.  Don't  you  wish  he  was  here, 
mother  ?  " 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  423 


"Home  is  no  home  without  father,  my  boy."  A  tear  dropped 
upon  the  hair  of  Alfy.  "  No  man  ever  loved  his  wife  and  children 
more  than  he.  Ho'wever,  we  must  submit  to  a  short  separation 
now,  that  death  may  not  rob  us  of  him  too  soon.  He  may  live  a 
long  life  in  Texas.  I  should  be  satisfied  with  a  letter  at  present ; 
we  have  not  had  any  news  from  father  and  uncle  George  for  five 

"  Mother,  why  did  he  and  uncle  George  go  to  Texas  ?  why  not 
go  to  some  other  place  South  ?  I  find  Texas  on  my  map,  and  it's 
farther  off  than  Georgia  and  Alabama." 

"  Well,  because  it  is  a  new  country  ;  land  is  cheap,  and  new 
settlers  are  welcomed.  There  are,  also,  excellent  prairie-grazing 
grounds  for  cattle.  Raising  stock  requires  no  hard  labor,  like 
tilling  this  rocky  New  England  soil.  Flocks  of  cattle  require  only 
a  herdsman  to  ride  about  after  them.  They  take  care  of  them^ 
selves  ;  need  no  hay,  no  barns.  Then  the  sun  there  does  the  work 
of  a  farmer  here ;  vegetation  asks  no  nursing  from  the  worn-out 

laborer."  t,     j     r 

"  But,  mother,  father  has  not  money  enough  to  buy  a  herd  ot 

cattle." 

"  Uncle  George  has ;  he  will  help  father  to  make   a  fair  start. 
Uncle   George  can  buffet  with  the  rough  world  better   than^  father, 
too.     Dear  father  will  find  strength  and  support  in^  George.'' 
"  Where  were  they  when  we  got  the  last  letter  ?  "   ^ 
*'  They  were  on  the  Ohio  river,  between  Cincinnati  and  the  Mis- 
sissippi." ,    .        ,         1-  .1  TJ- 

"  That  will  suit  Thad,  to  ride  over  the  plains  herding  cattle.  He 
likes  cattle  —and  he  likes  to  ride  fiery  horses.  He  says  he's  going 
to  be  a  stage-driver,  mother,"  an  idea  at  which  Alfy  laughed  loudly, 

forcing  his  mother  to  join.  ,  .        ,  t 

''The  life  of  a  herdsman  will  satisfy  Thad's  roving  humor,  I 
think  ;  and  perhaps  Alfy  would  like  a  pony  to  ride  also.  _  I^^expect 
these  two  violet  eyes,  and  this  fair  hair  will  need  that  tonic.  ihe 
fond  mother  dropped  two  kisses  on  the  tender  lids. 

"  The  snow  is  falling  faster,  mother."  ^       ,  ,        n-u  ^ 

"  And  it  is  growing  darker.  I  cannot  imagine  what  delays  ihad. 
The  roads  are  tilled  with  snow  ;  old  Ned  must  find  it  hard  traveling, 
dragging  wheels  through  the  clogging  ruts." 


424  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

The  mother  turned  away ;  but  the  anxious  eyes  of  Alfy  took 
another  survey  of  the  road. 

"  ^Mother,  I  see  something  coming  ;  the  horse  is  walking." 

Mrs.  Buddington  went  to  the  window  again. 

"  That's  Ned ;  but  there's  two  in  the  wagon.  Perhaps  he's 
bringing  home  a  neighbor."' 

She  Hghted  candles,  looked  after  the  supper,  waiting  by  the  fire 
on  the  hearth.  Ned  soon  came  round  the  house,  tired  and  wet 
with  sweat.     Alfy  met  him  on  the  steps. 

"  What  makes  you  so  late,  Thad  .'*  " 

"  Had  to  go  further,"  was  the  short  reply. 

"Where.?" 

"I'll  tell  you  all  about  it  when  I  come  in.  Hurry  and  light  the 
lantern.  Father  said  we  must  be  kind  to  *  Ned,'  and  he's  tired 
and  hungry." 

There  was  something  ominous  in  Thad's  voice,  which  Alfy  felt, 
but  could  not  define.  The  passenger  sprang  out  of  the  wagon,  and 
laid  a  heavy  gloved  hand  familiarly  on  Alfy's  shoulder. 

"  Don't  know  Uncle  George }  How  do  you  do  ?  and  how  is 
mother  ? " 

Alfy  noticed  something  strange  in  his  uncle's  voice ;  also  the  tone 
was  more  affectionate  than  formerlv. 

"  Tell  mother  I've  gone  to  the  barn,  to  help  Thad  put  up  'Ned  ;* 
you  must  bring  out  the  lantern." 

He  was  glad  to  have  a  small  extension  of  time,  before  the  sad 
meeting  which  awaited  his  entrance  to  the  home  of  his  brother. 

With  a  beating  heart  and  bewildered  step,  Mrs.  Buddington  drew 
out  the  fall-leaf  table,  spread  the  white  damask  cover,  and  set  out 
the  best  china.  A  trembling  hand  set  the  extra  plate.  Her  con- 
fused sight  could  scarcely  distinguish  one  jar  of  preserves  from 
another.  She  sta^srered  down  the  cellar  stairs  where  she  had  last 
seen  her  husband  at  w^ork,  storing  the  products  of  the  farm.  It 
seemed  like  a  tomb;  but  she  carried  up  the  Christmas  loaf,  of  which 
her  husband  was  fond,  and  which  she  had  made  for  the  boys,  in 
his  memory.  She  was  bending  over  the  hearth  to  take  up  the  late 
supper,  when  the  stamping  of  feet  in  the  entry  announced  their 
coming. 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  425 

"  What  news  will  he  bring  ?  "  she  said  to  herself.  "  Where  is 
James  ?     How  can  I  ask  .?  " 

Her  head  swam  and  she  sank  into  a  chair.  The  whole  family- 
strove  to  maintain  a  superficial  composure  during  the  meal,  and 
succeeded.  General  inquiries  of  health  and  weather  were  answered 
in  a  general  manner.  Oracular  premonitions  of  a  deep  sorrow  fell 
about  the  mother,  like  the  falling  snow.  The  moaning  winter  wind 
struck  desolation  to  her  heart,  yet  she  only  said,  as  they  rose  from 
the  table, — 

"  Thad,  where  did  you  find  your  uncle  ?  " 

His  uncle  answered  for  him. 

"  I  knew  he  would  go  to  the  post-office,  often.  I  wrote  to  the 
post-master  from  New  York,  to  send  Thad  on  to  the  '  old  tavern,' 
to  meet  and  bring  me  here.  He  has  had  a  long  ride  in  the  snow. 
I  came  back,  Mary,  on  unexpected  business." 

"Where  did  you  leave  James  ?  " 

"  At  the  last  place  where  we  stopped.  Let  us  have  the  table 
aside  ;  when  we  gather  round  the  fire,  I  will  explain  my  visit." 

Alfy  followed  his  mother  about,  assisting.  In  the  pantry  he 
whispered, — 

"  Why  didn't  father  come  ?    Will  Uncle  George  go  back  soon  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  tell,  my  son  ;  it  is  all  as  strange  to  me,  as  to  you." 

The  work  was  done ;  they  gathered,  anxiously,  about  the  bright 
fire. 

"  Mary,  James  has  been  sick  —  unable  to  travel." 

"  I  fear  that  is  not  all  the  message  you  bear  !  "  answered  Mary 
in  a  tremulous  voice.  "  Is  he  well  again  }  or  who  attends  to  him 
among  strangers  ? " 

'•  James  needs  no  care  at  present.  He  had  the  best  of  womanly 
care  from  the  hands  of  the  lady  who  stopped  on  her  journey  for 
this  purpose." 

"  George  Buddington,  my  husband  is  dead.  Tell  me  the  truth  !" 
she  ejaculated,  while  tears  flowed  down  her  pale  face.  Her  pitiful 
moans  filled  the  room.  The  distress  of  the  beloved  mother  roused 
her  sons,  and  their  childish  sobbing  joined  hers. 

The  brother  made  no  haste  to  reply;  he  could  not  trust  his  own 
voice ;   he  waited  for  this  first  outbreak  of  feeling  to  spend  itself. 


426  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Exhausted  grief  would  listen  more  calmly.  The  task  he  had  to 
perform  required  a  serene  subjection  of  his  own  grief,  and  the  bit- 
ter recollections  of  its  cause.  While  eno:ao:ed  in  the  hard  strife 
with  himself,  the  tempest  of  weeping  lessened.     She  addressed  him 


again. 


"Tell  me.  Brother  George,  the  whole  truth  ;  delay  is  no  relief. 
Where  is  James  ?  " 

"  He  sleeps  peacefully  —  he  is  at  rest,  where  no  apprehension  of 
evil  nor  the  turmoil  of  earth  can  ever  disturb  him  more.  Control 
yourselves  as  much  as  possible.  All  times  and  seasons  are  in  the 
hands  of  Him  who  both  giveth  and  taketh  life.  He  onlv  knows 
how  I  have  dreaded  to  be  the  messenger  of  these  tidings  to  you, 
Mary,  and  the  dear  boys." 

Alfy  threw  himself  moaning,  upon  the  floor.  The  pent-up  sor- 
row of  Thad  burst  forth  uncontrolled.  Uncle  George,  whose  grief 
had  a  deeper  source  than  they  yet  knew,  joined  his  tears  with 
theirs.  Stunned  by  the  overwhelming  blow,  the  mother  and  her 
sons  sat  speechless  around  the  winter  hearth ;  each  mind  picturing 
to  itself  the  cruel  grave  among  strangers,  in  a  lonely,  far-off 
land. 

George  Buddington  studiously  withheld  the  unsuspicioned  and 
shocking  cause  of  his  death.  He  spoke  little,  leaving  the  heart- 
rending dmouejjiejit  iox  a  future  day.  It  was  enough  for  the  stricken 
wife  to  know  that  the  beloved  husband  of  her  youth  was  dead. 
That  one  word  had  enough  of  poignancy  for  the  present.  Another 
hand  more  skillful  than  his  should  reopen  the  wound,  and  lay 
upon  its  throbbing  pain  the  leaves  of  healing.  Other  lips,  gentle 
and  loving,  should  narrate  the  horrid  truths.  "  Not  I ! "  He 
thought  to  himself. 

"  I  could  not  comfort,  or  soothe  with  patient  words.  I  should 
curse  —  hotly  curse  his  murderers.  I  should  anathematize  the  bru- 
tal fiends,  who  beat  out,  with  the  bloody  lash,  my  brother's  frail, 
unoffending  life.  I  should  curse  the  Constitution,  in  which  the 
Southerner  crystalized  his  own  diabolical  wishes.  I  should  curse 
a  religion  that  allows  its  priesthood  to  minister  to  the  infernal, 
blood-thirsty  oligarchy  of  the  South.  I  should  curse  the  heavens 
above,  that  would  receive  the  fainting  spirit  of  James,  threshed 
from  his  bleeding  body,  by  the  diabolical  flails  of  Southern  torture. 


WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  •  42*^ 

without  Striking  down  the  guilty  actors  with  the  fiery  bolts  of  Divine 
Justice." 

Scarce  thinking  of  himself,  he  raised  both  arms  to  join  his  hands 
against  the  back  of  his  head,  as  a  support,  when  sharp  twinges  of 
pain  quickly  recalled  his  own  flagellation,  and  the  still  sore,  un- 
healed welts  upon  his  own  person.  His  arms  dropped  suddenly. 
With  a  bitter  groan,  he  rose  and  slowly  paced  the  kitchen  floor. 

Hearing  this,  and  observing  the  unnatural  flush  that  burned  like 
a  flaming  fire  on  his  pale  face,  Mrs.  Buddington  asked  with  con- 
cern, if  he  were  not  suffering  from  fever  ;  perhaps  from  the  same 
fever  that  might  have  overtaken  James ;  and  was  there  not  a  West- 
ern fever  fatal  to  Eastern  residents  ?  " 

He  had  heard  so ;  was  not  well  informed  ;  thought  his  brother 
feverish  before  his  death ;  was  not  feverish  himself,  only  fatigued 
with  travel.  Thus  he  calmed  her  fears  and  walked  on,  apparently 
listening  to  the  cold,  soughing  wind  and  the  pattering  snow  on  the 
panes.  Thad  had  thrown  himself  on  the  floor  by  the  side  of  his 
brother,  before  the  bright  fire,  and  childhood's  sweet  sleep  of  for- 
getfulness  had  sealed  their  grieving  eyes. 

"  Sister  Mary,"  said  George,  "  a  lady  will  come  here  to  inform 
and  comfort  you  respecting  James'  sickness  and  death  ;  the  one  who 
attended  him  in  his  last  sickness.  She  lives  in  New  York,  and  in- 
sisted upon  coming  to  embrace  you  and  offer  solacing  words.  She 
will  prove  an  angel  of  peace  to  you,  as  she  did  to  James.  But  you 
should  not  be  alone  till  even  then.  I  propose  to  send  Thad  to- 
morrow morning  with  a  note  to  Filette  Snow,  to  come  immediately 
here  to  take  the  household  burden  from  your  distracted  thoughts ; 
also,  that  she  may  be  a  cheerful  companion  to  you  all. 

There  was  no  sleep  for  James'  stricken  wife  the  live-long  night. 
Mr.  Buddington  bore  her  company  through  the  long,  dreary  hours ; 
kept  the  fire  burning  brightly,  and  by  his  unruffled  serenity,  calmed 
^the  wild  outbursts  of  her  trembling  soul.  He  covered  the  sleeping 
brothers,  on  the  floor,  with  blankets,  passed  out  into  the  drifting 
snow  and  in  again,  to  break  the  dread  stillness.  He  made  in- 
quiries concerning  the  neighbors  and  the  clergyman  —  thus  lead- 
ing her  meditations,  at  intervals,  away  from  the  dead. 

When  the  first  crimson  rays  of  morning  barred  the  shroud-like 
snow,  a  light  knocking  called  him  to  the  door.     It  was   Mrs.   Bud- 


428  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

dington's  neighbor  Brown,  from  the  snug  home  dowr.  the  hill. 
Surprise  lifted  his  gray  brows,  as  he  pressed  George's  proffered 
hand. 

"  I  beg  pardon  for  this  early  intrusion,  Mr.  Buddington.  Wife 
has  kept  a  watchful  eye  on  this  house  since  James  went  to  Texas  ; 
she  has  seen  a  light  in  the  wmdows  several  times  in  the  night,  and 
hurried  me  up  here  to  see  if  Mary  or  the  boys  are  sick.  There  is 
no  need  now.     Is  your  brother  James  well.?     Is  he  within  }  " 

He  was  invited  in,  and  he  gave  all  a  kindly  greeting.  He 
learned  that  the  shadow  of  death  darkened  the  hitherto  joyful 
hearth.  With  a  misty  voice  he  spoke  of  the  better  land,  and 
another  happy  dweller  there  ;  and  that,  by  and  by,  imitating  his 
exemplary  life,  those  who  wait  below  may  meet  the  lost  above. 
There  was  balm  in  his  words  and  manner.  He  offered  himself  and 
sleigh  to  go  for  Filette  Snow,  remarking  it  would  be  too  cold  and 
hard  a  ride  for  Thad,  and  too  much  for  old  Ned.  His  horse  was 
young  and  strong,  and  was  as  fond  of  breaking  paths  as  an  engine 
on  the  railroad  track. 

He  took  a  sealed  note  from  Mr.  George,  explaining  all. 

Filette  came  to  the  door,  ringing  out  her  usual  merry  laugh. 

"  Why,  you  look  like  a  miller,  IMr.  Brown  ;  you  are  powdered 
white.  Did  the  colt  throw  3'ou  out .''  or  did  he  sift  the  snow  over 
you  himself  ?  Come  in  to  the  lire.  Now  that  '  gude  wife  '  of  yours, 
will  have  to  eat  those  delightful  pies  and  cakes  without  the 
tailoress,  for  I'm  just  going  to  fiy  away  in  another  direction.  Did 
you  come  for  me  ?  Why,  what's  the  matter,  Mr.  Brown  ?  Has  any- 
thing happened?  " 

"  I  have  a  letter  for  you." 

She  looked  at  it  archly,  saying, — 

"  I  do  not  know  the  hand-writing." 

"  Read  it,  Filette,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  strangely  grave.  The 
entreaty  sounded  to  the  gay  girl  like  a  rebuke.  With  a  sobered 
eye  she  scanned  his  staid  face  rapidly,  and  retired  from  the  circle 
about  the  blazing  hearth  to  a  chair  by  the  window.  Once  more 
she  curiously  turned  the  letter  in  her  fingers,  with  an  air  as  puzzled 
as  if  she  were  about  to  remedy  a  mistake  in  one  of  the  garments 
her  hands  turned  off  so  readily. 

The  half  sheet  of  foolscap  was  neatly  folded  in  letter  form,   and 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  429 

sealed  with  a  wafer.  The  bold,  handsomely  turned  letters  of  her 
name  rarely  met  her  gaze  in  that  attractive  form.  The  secret  was 
inside.  Breaking  the  seal,  she  sought  first  the  name  of  her  cor- 
respondent. There,  in  letters  as  handsomely  turned  as  those  of 
her  own  name,  she  read  with  a  suddenly  throbbing  heart,  "  Yours 
respectfully,  George  Buddington." 

The  perennial  roses  of  her  round,  healthy  face  deepened  into 
velvety  crimson.  The  pale,  rosy  wine  of  young  life's  sweetest 
hopes  mounted  to  temple  and  brow  ;  for  a  moment  the  tidied 
kitchen  and  its  busily  talking  inmates  swam  like  a  receding  vision. 
At  first,  the  name  was  all  she  pondered  ;  to  this  holy  oriflamme  of 
her  soul's  secret  adoration,  her  charmed  eyes  were  fastened.  She 
questioned, — 

"  Where  was  he  ?  Had  he  remembered  her  on  his  far-off  jour- 
ney ?  Ah  !  was  it  possible  ?  She  would  know,"  and  sought  the 
place  of  address.  "No,  he  is  here  in  Connecticut,  at  James' 
homestead." 

Her  pulses  perversely  quickened,  as  if  they  were  well  informed 
of  what  she  herself  had  not  acknowledged.  With  some  effort  she 
steadied  the  paper  in  her  hands,  reading, — 

•'  Miss  Snow, — You  will  doubtless  be  surprised  to  learn  that  I  have  so  soon 
returned  from  the  Texan  journey.  I  am  here  from  a  mournful  necessity.  My 
brother  was  not  equal  to  the  task  imposed.  After  an  unlooked-for  and  fatal 
sickness,  I  left  him  in  his  grave  in  Indiana,  and  returned  to  break  the  nev^s  to 
Mary,  and  to  stay  up  the  stricken  family.  I  write  in  behalf  of  Mary  this  morn- 
ing, asking  that  as  an  expression  of  the  sympathy  you  feel  for  her,  you  will  come 
immediately  to  her  side,  and  with  your  strong,  cheering  presence,  and  with  physi- 
cal aid  in  her  domestic  cares,  you  may  assist  her  to  bear  the  heavy  burden 
which  has  fallen  to  her  lot.  Come  immediately.  Your  remuneration  shall  be 
sufficient  to  cover  all  losses  of  time  from  professional  engagements. 

"  Respectfully  yours,  George  Buddington." 

The  roses  faded  ;  the  flushed  brow  whitened  —  they  had  been 
touched  by  sympathetic  sorrow,  and  like  the  leaves  of  the  Mimosa, 
shrank  beneath  it.  Selfish  emotions,  however  sweet,  gave  way  to 
the  sisterly  affections  cherished  for  James'  wife.  She  went  to  the 
pantry,  where  her  mother  was  busy  with  morning's  milk  and  cream, 
laid  a  hand  upon  her  shoulder,  saying, — 

*'  James  Buddington  is  dead.  Mary  is  left  a  widow ;  her  boys 
are  fatherless." 


430  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

Mrs.  Snow  dropped  the  skimmer  laden  with  cream  into  the  pan, 
and  asked  again  what  Filette  said. 

*.' James  Buddington  is  dead,  mother,  and  Mary  is  desolate." 
She  leaned  against  the  shelves,  answering  with  the  calmness  which 
only  is  gained  by  long  experience  in  life. 

"  This  is  terrible  news,  Filette  ;  but  Heaven  is  a  better  place 
than  Texas,  with  all  its  blue  skies,  birds  and  flowers," 

"But,  mother,  how  Mary  and  the  boys  loved  James." 

"Oh  yes,  death  is  ever  cruel.  But  if  James  had  gone  there,  he 
might  have  lost  his  soul  if  he  had  recovered  health."  Her  voice 
fell  to  a  whisper.  "  Nobody  can  take  up  their  abode  among  slave- 
holders ;  (and  those  in  Texas  are  nothing  better  than  heartless 
brigands  —  robbers  of  the  natural  rights  of  Mexico)  I  say,  no  man 
can  live  among  slave-holders,  assimilating  his  interests  with  theirs, 
as  residents  of  a  section  must  do,  without  becoming  assimilated 
also  in  soul  and  principle.  James'  beautiful  boys  would  have 
changed  to  bloody,  irritable  slave-masters.  Filette,  it  may  shock 
you,  but  if  this  is  the  only  way  to  prevent  his  abode  in  that  un- 
manageable den  of  thieves,  I  say  reverently,  '  God's  will  be  done  !  "  * 

"  Mary  has  sent  for  me,  mother." 

She  read  her  letter. 

"  Go,  my  child.  Carry  Mary  in  your  arms  through  this  fiery 
trial."  She  left  her  cream,  and  went  about  bringing  her  daughter's 
cloak,  hood  and  wrappings.  "  Filette,"  she  said,  "  sit  by  the  stove 
and  warm  you.  It's  a  long,  cold  ride.  I  will  gather  up  what  you 
will  need  during  your  stay." 

The  return  was  made  almost  in  silence. 

Neither  Mr.  Brown  or  Filette  knew  more  than  the  simple  facts 
stated  in  the  letter.  Filette  was  revolving  thoughts  which  had  no 
reference  to  the  gray-headed  man  by  her  side,  and  which  were 
scarcely  intelligible  to  herself.  As  she  turned  the  subject  con- 
fusedly this  way  and  that,  prismatic  hues  shot  forth,  enveloping  it 
in  the  colors  of  the  iris.  Rainbows  gave  place  to  the  shadow  of 
sorrow  and  the  gloom  of  James'  freshly  made  grave.  The  whitened 
landscape,  the  dazzling  sunlight,  the  colt  plunging  through  drifts, 
and  the  skurrying  snow  were  familiar  to  both,  claiming  no  atten- 
tion ;  and  in  the  midst  of  her  reveries  the  sleigh  bells  ceased  ring- 
ing.    They  were  at  Mary's  door. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  43 1 

Before  the  arrival  was  realized,  a  deep  subdued  voice  bade 
Filette  "Good-morning;"  two  strong  arms  lifted  her  from  the  nest 
among  the  buffalos,  to  the  clean-swept  step-stone.  She  raised  her 
face  to  say  "Thank  3^ou."  The  same  fascinating  hazel  eyes  which 
had  haunted  her  memory  since  they  vanished  up  the  green-bor- 
dered road,  weeks  before,  met  hers  again,  their  tender  sheen  melt- 
ing into  her  fluttering  heart. 

*•  Miss  Snow,  I  am  under  many  obligations  for  this  quick  reply 
to  my  note.     Sister  Mary  needs  you  much." 

She  entered  the  kitchen,  where  Deacon  Brown's  wife  had  finished 
clearing  up  the  breakfast  table.  Mary  hastened  to  meet  her  friend, 
and  while  tears  rained  afresh,  exclaimed, — 

"James  is  dead  !  " 

Filette  held  Mary  in  a  long  embrace,  saying, — 

"I  know  all  —  you  can  but  grieve  —  tears  are  the  best  relief. 
My  heart  bleeds  for  you  and  the  poor  boys." 

Then  while  Mary  went  on  sobbing,  she  bent  low  to  her  ear. 

"Mother  sent  you  a  message  —  this  is  it.  'We  all  are  but  dust, 
and  heaven  is  better  than  earth. ^  And  Mary,  you  know  you  and  I 
believe  that  God  is  good.  That  comprehends  more  than  we  can 
make  clear  to  ourselves." 

"  But  James  is  so  far  away  in  that  lonely  grave,  among  stran- 
gers," soliloquized  Mary. 

"That  is  true,"  replied  Mrs.  Brown;  but  the  All-seeing  Eye  that 
knoweth  when  a  sparrow  falls  will  much  more  watch  his  dust  for 
you.  Your  agony  will  not  be  forgotten.  After  the  sharp  pangs 
are  past,  which  all  must  feel  at  the  sudden  loss  of  a  friend,  He 
will  bind  up  your  bruised  spirit;  He  will  give  you  peace  for  mourn- 
ing." 

"  Think  Mary,"  added  Filette,  '•  how  many  of  earth's  beloved  lie 
in  unknown  graves  of  the  sea.  How  many  close  their  eyes  for- 
ever, and  bid  adieu  to  earth  on  the  merciless  battle-field,  and  are 
hurried  into  trenches,  unknown  and  unwept.  James  had  a  brother 
at  his  side,  who  cared  tenderly  for  his  last  hours.  Let  that  com- 
fort you." 

George  entered  with  Thad  and  Alfy,  who  followed  him  about  as 
if  he  were  their  only  protector.  Hearing  Filette's  efforts  at  sooth- 
ing his  sister-in-law,  he  added, — 


432  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

"  Heaven  sent  an  angel  to  his  sick  bed,  in  the  person  of  a  lady 
traveler  who  was  returning  to  New  York  with  her  husband  and 
servant,  from  a  Western  tour.  They  put  up  at  the  same  inn  ;  and 
learning  that  we  were  Eastern  men,  she  insisted  upon  halting  until 
the  crisis  should  be  over.  Night  and  day,  she  sat  by  his  bedside  f 
made  wdth  her  own  hands  various  kinds  of  nourishment  which 
could  not  have  been  obtained  at  a  country  inn.  The  proprietor 
and  his  wife,  pleased  with  the  distinguished  patronage  of  herself 
and  husband,  granted  all  her  wishes.  Mary  could  not  have  nursed 
him  more  considerately,  herself.  When  all  w^as  over,  she,  with  her 
noble  husband,  dressed  the  body  for  the  grave.  More,  they  went 
to  a  neighboring  village,  and  purchased  flowers,  here  and  there, 
from  plants  in  the  windows,  and  with  evergreen,  wove  a  floral  cross 
for  the  coffin.  She  even  borrowed  a  crape  bonnet  and  veil,  tied  a 
badge  of  mourning  on  her  husband's  arm,  and  followed  James  with 
me,  as  mourners,  to  his  grave." 

"  Heaven  will  bless  her  for  that,"  said  Mrs.  Brown. 

"  She  is  even  coming  here  to  make  acquaintance  with  Mary ;  to 
speak  of  James,  and  bear  a  message  from  his  dying  lips." 

"When  will  she  come  ?  "  asked  Filette. 

"  One  week  from  the  time  I  arrived.  We  will  offer  her  a  warm 
welcome,  Mary.  You  will  be  tranquilized  by  her  visit.  She  will 
remain  one  week,"  said  George. 

By  the  close  of  the  interval  week  before  the  reception  of  the 
guest,  every  preparation  possible  in  a  plain,  country  farm-house, 
was  perfected.  By  George's  suggestion,  the  bird's  eye  maple  bed- 
stead was  brought  down  from  the  cold  chamber,  and  placed  in  the 
parlor,  where  was  a  bright  carpet  of  warm  scarlet  and  green,  and  a 
polished  stove,  which  would  furnish  summer  temperature.  The 
white  toilet  table  was  brought  down  also,  and  placed  under  the  mir- 
ror, which,  together  with  the  high  bed  draped  in  white,  gave  the 
room  as  snug  and  comfortable  an  air  as  one  could  desire.  So  said 
George  Buddington. 

Cream,  mince  and  apple  pies,  glorying  in  the  flakiest  crust ;  and 
cakes  with  icing  as  white  as  the  snowy  fields  —  the  handi-work 
of  Filette,  awaited  the  almost  dreaded  arrival  —  for  Mary  said, 
what  with  her  grief  and  country  manners,  she  could  not  expect  to 
entertain  a  lady  so  delicate  and  refined.    The  extreme  poignancy  of 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  433 

bereavement  had  become  deadened,  to  a  degree,  by  Filette's  wise 
cheerfulness  and  the  occupied  days.  A  quiet  resignation  was  per- 
ceptibly gaining  ascendency  in  the  broken  family  circle. 

Near  the  close  of  the  day  appointed  for  the  lady's  arrival,  which 
was  bright  and  cold,  there  were  many  eyes  looking  up  the  road. 
Thad  and  Alfy  had  held  several  private  conferences  through  the 
day,  on  the  lady  from  New  York  —  added  to  much  speculation  on 
her  wealth  and  appearance  and  the  object  of  her  visit.  Each  was 
desirous  of  having  his  own  judgment  prove  the  most  correct ;  there- 
fore, the  window  commanding  the  snowy  road  was  not  left  for  a 
moment  without  a  sentinel. 

"  It's  near  sunset ;  they  ought  to  be  near,"  said  Alfy. 

"  Oh,  it's  a  long  way  to  the  old  Red  Tavern  where  the  stage 
stops,  and  the  lady  would  want  to  go  in  and  warm,  before  she  got 
in  the  cutter  with  Uncle  George,"  answered  Thad. 

"  Wasn't  that  a  nice  string  of  bells  Thad,  that  Uncle  George 
borrowed  for  the  colt ;  they  reached  clear  round  him,  and  made 
such  fine  music." 

'•  Yes,  they're  just  the  kind  of  bells  as  I'm  going  to  have  when  I 
own  horses.  I'll  have  two  jet  black  ones,  like  Lone  Star,  and  a 
string  of  bells  just  like  them  on  each  one." 

'•  There  !  they're  coming  now,  Alf.  I'm  going  to  drive  the  colt 
down  the  hill  to  Mr.  Brown's.     You  want  to  go,  Alf  ? " 

"  No,  I  want  to  stay  and  see  the  lady." 

The  meeting  was  cordial  on  both  sides  ;  but  on  the  stranger's 
part,  it  was  like  the  recognition  of  long-absent  friends.  She 
embraced  Mary  with  unaffected  and  sisterly  sympathy,  imprinting 
a  warm  kiss  upon  her  pale  brow.  She  had  a  kiss  also  for  Thad 
and  Alfy.  She  took  both  of  Filette's  hands  in  hers,  held  them 
long,  and  said  admiringly, — 

"So!  so!  Pink  roses  among  New  England  snows.  I  have 
found  a  beautiful  Hebe." 

With  some  trepidation,  Mary  ushered  her  into  the  parlor  bed- 
room to  arrange  her  toilet  for  supper  —  apologizing  for  their  rude 
accommodations. 

"We  have  no  saloons,  no  folding  doors,  and  no  servants,  my 
dear  lady,  here.  I  fear  you  will  regret  leaving  your  spacious  and 
luxuriant  home  in  the  city." 


434  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

•'  By  no  means.  Do  not  indul^^^e  that  unpleasant  thought.  This 
room  is  a  paradise  ;  so  delightfully  warm  ;  and  that  bed  will  tempt 
me  to  sleep  day  and  night.  I  have  so  desired  to  nestle  down  in  a 
New  England  farm-house  ;  here  my  wish  is  gratified.  My  dear  ]\[rs. 
Buddington,  you  will  find,  on  farther  acquaintance,  that  my  likings 
are  very  simple." 

The  supper  was  soon  upon  the  table  before  the  blazing  hearth, 
which  illuminated  every  angle  of  the  tidy  kitchen.  George  assisted 
Filette.     He  was  the  infallible  reference  in  perplexity. 

"  She  is  a  superb  woman,"  said  Mary  in  an  undertone.  "  Her 
hair  is  singularly  splendid,  with  the  color  and  luxuriance  of  ripened 
wheat  fields.     You  will  admire  her,  Filette." 

'*I  hope  the  supper  will  prove  satisfactory,"  whispered  Filette. 

"  It  cannot  be  otherwise,"  spoke  George  encouragingly.  "This 
cooking  cannot  be  had  from  hotels  or  servants,  for  love  nor  money. 
She  will  be  delighted  with  this  bountiful  repast  j  prepared  too,  by 
our  magic  hands." 

"  Now  Alf,"  whispered  Thad,  "  don't  forget  and  stand  your 
knife  and  fork  on  end  each  side  of  your  plate,  while  you  are  look- 
ing at  the  lady.  I  wouldn't  look  at  her  too  much  to-night ;  we  shall 
have  plenty  of  time  to  see  her  afterwards." 

Alfy  m.ade  no  reply,  but  his  sensitive  boyish  pride  was  touched  ; 
and  the  moistened  eyes  dimmed  the  happy  firelight. 

After  sufficient  lime  for  a  change  of  traveling-dress,  Mrs.  Bud- 
dington stepped  into  the  parlor,  to  say  that  tea  was  waiting. 
George  awaited  her  entrance  to  the  kitchen,  walked  by  her  side  to 
the  table,  withdrew  the  chair  and  seated  her.  She  acknowledged 
this  act  of  courtesy  by  saying, — 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Buddington ;  but  hereafter,  allow  me  to 
approach  the  table  unattended.  Consent  that  I  may  be  one  of 
the  pleasant  family,  and  that  no  one  shall  take  the  trouble  to  pay 
me  special  attentions." 

Her  manner  was  such  as  to  dispel  all  anxiety  from  the  minds  of 
Mary  and  Filette  ;  for  she  declared,  that  to  come  to  table  in  that 
delightful  kitchen,  before  that  picturesque  fire-place  was  worth  the 
whole  journey.  She  begged  the  privilege  of  calling  Mrs.  Budding- 
ton Mary;  as  her  brother-in-law  had  spoken  of  her  in  that  manner 
on  their  journey ;  adding  that  the  ideal  of   her    anticipated   visit 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  435 

had   been  Mary ;  in  her  estimate,  the  most  exalted  name    among 
women. 

Observing  the  downcast  eyes  of  Alfy,  and  the  bashful  awkward- 
ness with  which  he  clung  to  his  knife  and  fork  lying  prone  upon 
the  table  as  well  as  the  self-possessed  silence  of  Thad,  she  drew 
them  adroitly  into  familiar  conversation. 

"  I  must  make  the  early  acquaintance  of  these  two  fair  lads.  I 
have  no  little  boys.  Let  me  see  ;  the  name  of  the  youngest  has 
escaped  my  memor\'." 

"  Alfy,  ma'am  ; "  and  the  blue  eyes  lighted  up  with  the  sweetest 
pleasure. 

"The  older  is  Thad,"  suggested  Uncle  George.  "As  you 
remarked,  madam,  they  are  fine  boys  —  Uncle  George  is  quite 
proud  of  them." 

"  Excellent ;  with  that  recommendation  I  shall  place  the  names 
of  Thad  and  Alfy  on  my  list  of  friends.  Now  what  have  you  in 
that  large  barn  .''  horses  .?  and  what  are  their  names  .? " 

"  We  have  one  —  he  is  old  though —  his  name  is  Ned,"  answered 
Alfy. 

"  Then  you  shall  take  me  out  sleigh-riding  one  of  these  even- 
ings." 

"  Ned  is  not  fast  enongh  to  carry  a  lady  to  ride,"  said  Thad. 

Alfy  was  ruffled  somewhat  in  Ned's  defense. 

"  Father  loved  Ned,"  he  quietly  responded  "  and  bade  us  be  kind 
to  him." 

Smiling  sadly,  she  healed  the  wound  by  saying, — 

"  Then  Thad,  we  will  all  love  Ned  and  drive  him  gently." 

After  many,  and  just  encomiums  upon  the  delightful  supper,  she 
remarked  to  Mr.  Buddington, — 

"Our  Hebe  should  not  only  be  cup-bearer  to  the  gods,but  also 
the  bearer  of  ambrosial  food,  which  her  hands  so  readily  form." 

"  Our  opinions  are  harmonious,  Madame  Lambelle." 

After  supper  she  led  Mary  and  her  sons  away  to  her  "pretty 
boudoir,"  saying  archly,  while  Filette's  cheeks  glowed  crimson,  and 
George  responded  with  an  approving  smile, — 

"I  trust  they  will  not  be  lonely  without  us." 

That  was  a  never-to  be  forgotten  evening  for  Mary's  boys. 
Thad's  barometer   and  Alfy's  thermometer,  the  gifts  of  the   "  New 


436  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

York  lady,"  as  they  sometimes  termed  her,  became  the  keys  to  fu- 
ture unlocked  stores  of  science.  An  ardent  longing  for  its  myste- 
ries was  awakened  by  a  recollection  of  the  pleasant  voice  which 
explained  their  uses.  The  pretty  dressing  case  bestowed  upon 
each,  was  the  secret  indication  of  fast-approaching  manhood.  A 
standard  of  womanly  beauty  and  refinement  was  then  and  there 
set  up  in  their  admiring  minds,  which  was  never  to  be  dethroned. 
Woe  be  to  those  maidens  hereafter,  who,  measured  by  the  lovely 
stature,  were  found  wanting.  The  keen  edge  of  Mary's  ever  recur- 
ring loss  was  deftlv  blunted  by  her  visitor's  gentle  and  considerate 
ways,  in  keeping  her  attention  removed  from  the  one  object  of  her 
thoughts,  to  new  and  interesting  subjects. 

The  kitchen  was  rife  with  the  praises  of  the  elegant  Madame 
Lambelle.  She  infused  her  beauty  and  goodness  into  every  word 
and  action. 

Said  Filette,— 

"  How  delightfully  the  dreaded  supper  hour  passed. 

*•  *  Round  her  she  made  an  atmosphere  of  life, 
The  very  air  seemed  lighter  from  her  eyes. 
They  were  so  soft,  so  beautiful  and  rife 
With  all  we  can  imagine  of  the  skies  ! 

Her  overpowering  presence  made  you  feel, 
It  would  not  be  idolatry  to  kneel ! '  " 

"  Doing  up  the  dishes,  and  chanting  Byron  !  "  quoth  her  com- 
panion. 

"  Certainly  !  Hands  that  labor,  should  be  crowned  with  flowers 
of  thought.  When  they  are  not  indigenous,  they  must  be  culled 
elsewhere." 

"Valiant  as  ever  in  your  own  defense,  I  see.  Now  since  you 
have  thrown  down  the  poetical  gauntlet,  I  cannot  refuse  the  chal- 
lenge. I  most  heartily  accede  to  your  admiration  of  our  lady  guest, 
and  beg  to  add,  that,  besides  being  a  phantom  of  delight,'  she  is 

'  A  creature  not  too  bright  or  good 
For  human  nature's  daily  food  ; 
For  transient  sorrows,  simple  wiles, 
Praise,  biame,  love,  kisses,  tears  and  smiles.' 

That  is  the  style  of  woman  who  commands  my  reverence.     I  have 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  437 

no  faith  in  fancy-wrought  angels,  whose  fairy,  golden-slippered  feet 
are  never  soiled  with  the  dust  of  earth.  Life  is  real  —  life  is  ear- 
nest for  woman,  as  well  as  man.  In  spite  of  the  sickly  teachings 
of  false  literature,  I  have  my  own  opinion." 

There  was  silence  for  a  few  moments.  Nothing  disturbed  it  but 
the  official  crackling  of  the  winter  fire,  and  the  rattle  of  Filette's 
dishes.  She  w'ould  not  compromise  herself  by  any  expression  of 
opinion  ;  although  before  Madame  Lambelle's  arrival,  she  had 
held  well-defined  ideas  upon  the  true  requisites  of  womanhood. 
Since  the  contemplations  of  her  perfections,  she  had  fallen  in  her 
own  estimation.  A  secret  fear  whispered  that  she  might  have  lost 
by  comparison,  in  the  estimation  of  one  whose  favorable  opinion 
she  most  desired.  She  could  be  valiant  in  her  own  defense,  no 
longer.  However,  she  broke  the  expressive  silence,  by  say- 
ing,— 

"It  seems  that  we  have  had  transplanted  into  our  farm-house  a 
tropical  plant  of  exquisite  richness  and  fragrance,  whose  bloom  is 
a  never-ceasing  delight,  I  could  easily  become  the  hand-maid  of 
our  visitor,  for  the  simple  reward  of  being  near  her." 

"Miss  Snow,  there  would  be  nothing  in  that  love  service  which 
could  in  the  least  diminish  your  dignity.  There  is  high  authority 
for  esteeming  others  better  than  ourselves.  She  certainly  deserves 
high  regard  for  the  simple  obedience  yielded  to  the  exalted  and 
natural  impulses  of  a  noble  heart ;  but  the  ease,  elegance  and  self- 
possession  of  her  manners  are  due  to  leisure,  travel  and  cosmopoli- 
tan intercourse.  That  is  not  the  common  lot  of  all,  you  know,  Aliss 
Snow.  Inherent  worth  should  be  held  at  its  true  value,  even  if 
unadorned  by  artificial  aids.  Blue  field-violets  and  wood  anemones 
are  among  the  well -beloved  of  the  most  sensible  minds." 

Filette  had  not  given  George  Buddington  the  credit  of  cherishing 
such  radical  ideas  upon  what  half  the  world  seemed  bewildered  j 
yet  they  afforded  agreeable  meditations. 

The  folio  win  2:  Sabbath  was  fixed  for  the  conventional  sermon 
upon  James'  death.  The  news  had  been  spread  through  town,  and 
visits  of  condolence  had  been  numerous.  Mary  and  Filette  were 
with  Madame  Lambelle,  inspecting  the  mourning  suit  that  had 
been  taken  from  the  trunk.   , 

"  This  bonnet  and  veil,  and  these  black  bordered  handkerchiefs, 


438  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

are  my  gift,  dear  Mary.  My  husband  thought  these  black  furs 
would  not  be  inappropriate  ;  he  begs  you  to  accept  them  from  him ; 
or,  perhaps  you  have  furs  already. 

"  No,  I  have  none.  I  denied  myself  many  luxuries,  that  James 
might  have  means  to  remove  his  family  to  the  South.  We  farmers' 
wives  find  other  necessary  ways  to  invest  our  hard-earned  income. 
But  really,  I  have  some  delicacy  about  receiving  this  beautiful  pres- 
ent.    I  am  in  no  wise  worthy." 

"They  are  beautiful,"  exclaimed  Filette.  "Try  these  on,  Mary. 
There,  the  point  of  the  cape  reaches  to  your  belt,  and  the  fur  is  so 
long  and  glossy.  Place  your  hands  in  the  muff.  There  is  not  so 
handsome  a  set  in  town  ;  and  none  deserves  them  more  than  your- 
self." 

"  This  black  broadcloth  cloak,"  continued  the  lady,  "  is  the  of- 
fering of  your  brother  George ;  he  ordered  me  to  purchase  it  for 
you.     See,  Mary,  it  is  perfectly  plain,  but  is  rich  and  in  good  taste." 

Mary  inspected  it  with  grateful  but  tearful  eyes. 

"Try  them  all  on,  oi.ce,  and  then  let  me  put  them  from  your 
sight  till  Sunday,"  advised  Filette,  considerately. 

While  Filette  went  out  on  her  errand,  madame  took  Mary's 
hand,  and  said  feelingly,-  — 

"  I  have  come  to  relate  to  you  the  circumstances  of  your  hus- 
band's death,  and  to  deliver  his  dying  message  ;  but  let  us  defer 
the  painful  duty  until  ^Monday.  The  exercises  of  the  Sabbath  will 
be  sufficiently  trying.  As  my  stay  is  extended  to  Friday,  there  is 
ample  time.  This  postponement  will  be  made  as  the  suggestion 
of  your  brother,  who  desires  only  your  comfort  and  welfare." 

"Very  well.  I  can  await  the  proper  time  ;  there  may  be  some 
reason  which  I  do  not  understand.  George  has  been  a  kind 
brother  to  James,  and  I  cannot  doubt  his  friendship  for  me." 

At  the  Sunday  sermon  there  was  an  unu  ual  attencsnce.  The 
Reverend  Mr.  John's  kept  to  the  old  beaten  track  of  theologians, 
in  accounting  for  the  sudden  demise  of  the  well-known  and  exem- 
plary citizen,  to  whose  memory  all  had  gathered  to  drop  the  tear 
of  sympathy.  The  death  of  James  Buddington  was  among  the 
myscerious  and  inscrutable  ways  of  God.  It  was  among  His  divinf^ 
and  glorious  designs  that  he  should  pass  away  from  earth  in  a  lana 
of  strangers,  far  from  the  affectionate  voices  of  his  own  family. 


/^ 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  439 

"  The  Lord  hath  done  this!''  he  reiterated.  "  He  hath  called  his 
beloved  disciple  away  from  earth,  up  to  the  abodes  of  bhss.  With 
serene  submission  the  mourners  should  lay  their  hands  upon  their 
moutiis,  and  their  mouths  in  the  dust,  not  daring  to  question 
Heaven's  all-wise  plans." 

This  was  the  custom  of  that  day ;  to  lay  death,  and  the  anguish 
of  it,  whatever  it  might  be,  upon  the  threshold  of  heaven.  To  at- 
tribute to  the  loving  Creator  the  whimsical  fiendishness  of  murder, 
or  manslaughter  m  its  various  degrees.  It  was  a  comforting  doc- 
trine for  those  who  could  stolialy  embrace  it ;  for  those  who  re- 
ceived their  spiritual  food  as  the  stalled  ox  feeds  upon  weeds  and 
thistles.  How  those  mourners  took  this  gracious  unction  to  their 
souls  must  be  seen  hereafter. 

The  congregation  scattered  through  the  town,  had  seen  some- 
thing of  much  deeper  interest  than  the  sermon  ;  a  living  mystery, 
witlAvhich  God  seemed  to  have  very  little,  or  nothing  to  do.  The 
stran£-er  in  the  Buddington  pew  was  to  be  unraveled. 

"  Such  an  elegant  lady  1 "  said  one. 

"  She  was  dressed  in  costUest  velvet  from  head  to  foot !  "  said 

another. 

"Those  were  real  ostrich  plumes,  and  the  rose  in  her  Donnet 
locked  as  if  it  had  just  been  cut  from  the  stem  !  "  said  a  third. 

"  Her  eyes  were  blue  as  the  sky,  and  her  hair  like  pale  gold  !  " 
affirmed  a' young  collegian,  at  home  for  a  vacation. 

The  mystery  of  her  advent  into  "that  plain  house  which  is  no 
better  than  ours,"  was  more  difficult  of  explanation  than  the  aus- 
tere will  and  stony  decr.ees  of  Jehovah. 

"  I'll  Lell  you 'what  I  believe  !  "  intimated  Miss  Myrtle  Berry,  at 
the  Sunday  dinner,  "she's  to  be  the  wife  of  George  Buddington. 
She  must  be  a  Southern  lady.  He  made  her  acquaintance  on  his 
journey,  and  has  brought  her  home  to  see  his  friends.  I've  always 
heard  those  Southern  ladies  are  so  hospitable  !  " 

"So  I've  always  heard,"  said  her  mother,  a  little  withered 
woman,  to  whom  all  human  nature  was  angelic.  "  James  may  have 
been  taken  sick  at  her  father's  house,  ana  she  probably  fell  in  love 
with  his  fine  looidng  brother,  George.  The  further  you  go  South, 
the  kinder  they  say  the  people  air." 

"  Preposterous  !    pre  —  pos  —  ter  —  ous  !  "  cried  Anna,  an  older 


440  WHITE    MAY,  AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

sister.  "Myrtle,  don't  delude  poor  mother  and  yourself.  Haven't 
I  been  governess  South,  amongst  the  blue-bloods,  long  enough  to 
know  better  ?  Hospitable  !  They  are  so  to  those  of  their  own 
standing,  and  to  no  others.  Don't  imagine  that  so  grand  a  looking 
Southern  lady  as  that  would  ever  marry  a  Northern  adventurer,  as 
they  term  a  gentleman  who  may  travel  through  their  section.  No 
indeed !  she  would  be  traveling  towards  Europe,  instead  of  towards 
New  England!  " 

'"Why!  wouldn't  they  marry  as  good  looking  a  gentleman  as 
George  Buddington  ?  he's  rich  too,  they  tell  me.  He's  got  a  deal 
of  property  in  Massachusetts. 

"  He's  not  a  rice  planter,  nor  does  he  hold  five  hundred  slaves  ! 
those  are  blue-blood  conditions.  Girls  there  would  lose  caste  im- 
mediately, to  marry  a  Northerner.  They  would  marry  into  their 
own  families,  over  and  over  again  —  first  cousins  every  time,  rather 
than  do  it." 

"  Well,  I'm  astonished  !  "  innocently  averred  the  mother. 

'•  You  would  have  greater  cause  for  astonishment  yet,  if  you 
lived  among  them  !  "  was  the  bitter  reply.  "  However,  I  am  not 
disparaging  the  elegant  young  lady  who  accompanied  the  Budding- 
ton's  to  church,  to-day.  She  was  beautiful,  and  evidently  possesses 
wealth  and  culture.  I  observed  a  soitaire  diamond  on  her  finscer, 
and  a  cluster  nestled  into  the  blue  velvet  on  her  singular  hair." 

"Well,  you  don't  say,  Anna !  I  never  see  a  diamond  in  my  life," 
replied  the  mother,  with  happy  content. 

Another  enigma  worried  the  church  people.  When  and  how 
did  Mary  get  that  costly  suit  of  mourning.'*-  the  furs,  the  cloak,  the 
city-looking  bonnet }  These  were  tougher  questions  than  fore- 
ordination  or  natural  depravity,  and  busied  gossiping  tongues  quite 
up  to  the  hour  for  family  prayers.  Even  the  minister  and  his  wife 
were  agitated  by  the  unusual  extravagance  of  the  widow,  in  her 
purchase  of  mourning. 

Filette  and  Thad  rose  early  Monday  morning.  At  half-past 
four,  she  was  busy  at  the  washing,  that  the  short  winter  day  should 
have  its  full  quota  of  undisturbed  quiet  given  to  the  last  sacred 
hours  of  the  deceased  hnsband.  At  eigiu  o'clock,  the  lines  were 
Haunting  burdens  of  snowy  garments  in  the  dawning  face  of  the 
lardy  sun.      A  quarter  later,  the  boys  had   breakfasted,  and  were 


WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  44 1 

starting  for  the  distant  school-house,  laden  with  dinner  basket  and 
books.  The  savory  breakfast  smoked  upon  the  table,  for  the  elder 
members  of  the  family.  Conversation  laijired ;  abstraction  and 
silence  prevailed  with  all  except  Filette.  Her  eflFoits  at  cheerful 
sociability  scattered  the  gathering  gloom,  kept  back  the  tears  from 
Mary's  eves,  and  called  the  color  back  to  Geors^e's  ashen  face. 
Madame  Lambelle  seconded  Filette,  and  her  glance  often  met  the 
noble  girl's  in  a  glad  recognition  of  her  kindly  design. 

By  ten,  the  three  women  were  gathered  about  the  stove  in  the 
visitor's  room. 

"  Mary,  your  lovely  calla  lily  and  the  tea  roses  are  drinking  this 
bright  sunlight  to  their  heart's  content.  How  pure  and  lovely  they 
are  !  ever  so,  but  especially  amid  icy  winter." 

"The  calla  was  James'  favorite,  and  his  own  hands  raised  it. 
Everything  blossomed  under  his  care  —  everything  except  this  last 
fateful  journey  to  Texas."  With  a  deep  sigh  she  added,  "  He  loved 
flowers  with  almost  feminine  enthusiasm." 

"  Mary,  he  rested  in  his  last  sleep  among  flowers  ;  they  were  on 
his  breast  and  upon  his  coffin,  and,  according  to  the  faith  of  our 
fathers,  he  now  walks  where  'flowers  immortal  bloom  !  '  " 

"  Madame  Lambelle,  I  am  to  hear  to-day  the  particulars  of  his 
sickness,  and  his  message  to  me.  Do  not  hesitate,  but  speak 
without  a  longer  delay.  Explain  precisely  the  nature  of  his  disease. 
Explain  why  you  took  so  deep  an  interest  in  his  death  and 
burial."  • 

The  lady  seated  herself  by  Mary,  and  took  her  hand  in  hers, 
saying,— 

'•  First  promise  me  that  you  will  brace  your  nerves  against  exces- 
sive grief,  that  you  will  bring  all  your  powers  of  resistance  to  your 
aid,  for  mine  is  a  harrowing  task.  Remember  that  the  past  cannot 
be  recalled  —  the  future  only  remains.  I  will  answer  your  last 
question  first. 

"1  was  staying  in  St.Louis  myself  last  autumn,  while  my  husband 
made  a  journey  to  Texas  —  not  for  the  purpose  of  settling  there, 
but  for  other  reasons.  We  carried  letters  of  recommendation  to  a 
few  of  the  most  aristocratic  families  there,  and,  being  heartily  wel- 
comed by  these,  as  New  Yorkers  after  their  own  heart,  v/e  were 
introduced   to  the  elite  of  the  city.     Towards  the  close  of  my  stay, 


442  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

I  was  invited  to  attend  a  public  meeting,  a  sort  of  jubilee  over  an 
event  which  had  just  filled  the  town  with  an  uncontrollable  excice- 
ment  of  rejoicing.  The  hall  was  thronged  with  ladies  and  gentle- 
men of  the  highest  rank;  statesmen,  editors,  and  a  large  body  of 
the  clergy.  The  street  was  so  densely  packed,  that  being  late,  our 
carriage  moved  through  with  difficulty.  The  American  Flag  was 
flung  to  the  breeze,  and  graced  the  hall,  within. 

"1  found  that  the  occasion  of  this  tumult  of  cheering  and  huzza- 
ing, was  rhe  whipping  of  two  strangers  the  da}'  previous,  whom 
they  denominated  thieves,  on  the  pretence  of  their  tampering  with 
slaves  and  decoying  them  away.  I  arrived  late,  only  in  time  to 
hear  a  few  speeches  against  Northerners  and  Abolitionists.  (By  the 
way,  these  men  who  were  whipped,  were  called  abolitionists  of  the 
bloodiest  and  most  repulsive  character,)  and  to  listen  to  resolutions 
that  were  clearly  and  designedly  repellant  to  every  instinct  of  hu- 
manity, to  the  spirit  of  our  National  Constitution,  and  to  the  lib- 
eral teachings  and  intent  of  our  fathers.  I  was  shocked  at  the 
anathemas  poured  out  against  all,  whomsoever  and  wheresoever 
they  might  be,  who  would  not  violently  sustain  their  system  of 
slavery. 

"  I  was  well  informed  of  the  danger  to  one  who  should  dare  dis- 
sent from  their  evil  and  bloodthirsty  asservations,  so  maintained  a 
seeming  approval  of  the  meeting  and  its  purposes.  I  afterwards 
learned  that  the  punishment  of  the  two  strangers  was  two  hundred 
lashes  each  ;  that  the  respectable  citizens  formed  themselves  into  a 
line,  each,  in  turn,  giving  two  lashes  and  passing  on.  I  was  in 
high  feather  with  the  families  of  those  very  respectable  citizens  ; 
was  the  recipient  of  their  extreme  chivalric  attentions.  My  hus- 
band arrived  soon  after,  and  remained  just  long  enough  to 
acknowledge  with  courtesy  the  hospitable  welcome  bestowed  upon 
his  wife. 

"  We  then  started  for  New  York  at  easy  stages  across  the  coun- 
try. One  night  we  stopped  at  a  country  hotel  in  Indiana.  During 
the  evening,  a  gentleman  dropped  into  the  little  parlor  where  Mr. 
Lambeile  and  myself  were  resting.  We  exchanged  the  usual  salu- 
tations of  travelers,  and  learned  that  he  awaited  the  crisis  of  a 
brother's  sickness,  and  would  not  go  on  till  that  was  past.  I  was 
educated  among  Catholics,  with   the   Sisters  of  Mercy,    and   had 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  443 

acquired  a  great  admiration  for  their  ministrations  of  love  among 
the  suffering  ;  since  their  acquaintance,  I  have  ever  felt  an  acute 
interest  for  the  distressed.     1  made  more  particular  inquiries. 

"Now  Mary,  the  truth  cannot  be  withheld  any  longer.  I  found 
that  the  brother  was  James — your  husband;  and  that  the  two 
men  publicly  whipped  in  the  city  of  St.  Louis,  were  George  and 
James  Buddington." 

A  low,  Vv-ailing  cry  welled  up  from  the  suffocating  throat  of 
Mary.^  Her  hands  vaguely  grasped  for  an  intangible  support. 
Mid  sighs  and  sobs  she  cried  piteously, — 

"  Oh  !  no  !  no!  no  !  It  cannot  be  !  Not  my  James  !  my  tender, 
upright,  patriotic  Jaiiies  I  my  husband  I  The  father  of  my  boys  !  " 
She  sobbed  brokenly,  "Oh  !  no  !  no  !  tell  me  no !  " 

Unable  to  support  herself,  her  hands  caught  the  back  of  a  chair 
near  her ;  her  head  sank  upon  them,  and  she  groaned  deeply. 

Filette  offered  comfort  in  a  choking  voice. 

"  No  !  no  !  Do  not  utter  a  word  of  consolation  to  me  !  Think 
of  my  poor,  feeble,  sufferhig  James  at  the  whipping-post!  his  frail, 
panting  life  beaten  out  of  him  !  murdered  !  Oh  !  worse  !  murdered 
by  inches  !  Don't  speak  to  me  I  Madame  Larabelle,  don't  speak 
of  the  Lord  !  there  is  none  !  " 

With  an  almost  insane  revulsion  of  emotion  she  sat  up  erect, 
still  clutchtng  the  chair  with  a  convulsive  grasp. 

"  Tell  me,  Madame  Lambelle,  where  was  James'  spirit  crushed 
out  of  him  ?  Tell  me  how  !  tell  me  all !  everything  you  know, 
that  I  may  seem  to  have  been  near  him  —  that  I  may  seem  to  have 
waited  near  his  murderers  to  receive  his  mangled  and  bleeding 
body  to  my  pitying  arms  !  Tell  me  why,  I  conjure  you,  tell  me 
why !  " 

Madame  Lambelle  bent  over  the  suffering  wife,  kissed  the  shak- 
ing hands  —  her  soft,  white  palms  passed  over  Mary's  throbbing 
temples,  and  her  tearful  eyes  looked  calmly  into  the  wild  agony  of 
those  of  her  friend. 

"  I  w^as  not  an  eye  witness  of  that  barbarous  scene."  Her. voice 
was  low  and  gentle.  "  I  can  tell  you  of  his  lov^ely  and  triumphant 
death,  Mary.  I  can  give  the  dear  message  to  you,  with  which  he 
entrusted  me.  I  can  describe  to  you  the  quiet  spot  where  he 
sleeps  peacefully,   that  you  may  seem  to  weep  by  his  grave,   your- 


444  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

self.     I  can  do  that.     Shall  I  proceed  ?  "  the  soft  palms  still   mov- 
ing over  the  stricken  woman's  temples. 

"  Yes,  go  on  !  omit  nothing.  1  must  endure  to  hear  what  my 
dear  James  has  suffered." 

*'  Well,  Mary,  I  went  with  my  husband  to  James'  room  —  it  was 
comfortable.  Mr.  George  had  done  all  in  his  power  for  his 
brother  ;  but  a  woman's  care  was  needed.  After  some  consul- 
tation, I  acquainted  the  sufferer  with  my  design  to  become  his 
nurse;  informing  him,  at  the  same  time,  of  the  circumstance  that 
brought  us  together.  To  encourage  hope,  I  remarked,  '  We  will 
all  delay  till  you  can  travel  with  us.'  Gladness  lighted  his  face 
when  he  learned  we  were  to  remain.  Mary,  the  light  of  his  smile 
did  not  become  dim,  when  he  said,  '  My  kind  friends,  you  will  not 
be  delayed  long;  but  I  shall  not  travel  with  you.'  ' 

Filette,  moved  by  the  pale  and  rigid  face,  spoke  for  Mary. 

"  George  says  James  died  of  fever." 

"  Yes,  that  is  true  ;  his  life  ebbed  out  in  fever,  but  that  fever 
was  induced  by  the  merciless  whip.  His  wounds  did  not  heal,  and 
were  a  source  of  severe  pain  and  irritation.  You  know  in  those 
terrible  scourgings,  a  physician  stands  by  with  his  fingers  often 
applied  to  the  pulse  of  the  victim.  He  indicates  the  number  of 
lashes  that  c;in  be  borne  without  a  complete  separation  of  the 
fluttering  soul  from  the  fainting  body." 

A  sharp  shriek  rang  through  the  room.  Madame  Lambelle  felt 
her  hands  seized  suddenly,  almost  fiercely.     Mary  asked, — 

"  How  can  you  speak  those  words  so  coolly  ?  Why  do  they  not 
burn  your  lips  to  anathemas  .''  "  Moaning  and  weeping,  she  bent 
her  head  over  Madame  Lambelle's  hands,  -which  she  still  clenched 
like  one  drowning,  and  wet  them  with  her  tears. 

"  I  am  cool,  my  dear  friend,  because  I  comprehend  Southern 
slavery  ;  because  I  know  slavery  is  unchangeablv  cruel ;  because  I 
have  suffered,  and  my  friends  have  suiTered,  till  tears  are  exhausted  ! 
tears  are  succeeded  by  the  calmness  of  despair.  Mary,  if  George 
and  James  Buddington  were  the  only  ones  whom  slavery  has 
thrust  into  the  jaws  of  Death,  then,  indeed,  might  the  dove  of  Peace 
brood  over  our  nation.  But  thousands,  both  of  slaves  and  free- 
men, have  watered  with  their  life's  blood  this  land  mockiniilv  con 
secrated  to   Liberty.     There  is  no  hope  in  man,  his  religion  or  hi:j 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  445 

laws.  All  bow  the  knee  to  this  National  Moloch.  In  God  must 
be  our  trust.     *  Jud2;ment  is  mine,'  he  ha«?  said." 

Astonishment  in  both  listeners  held  grief  in  abeyance.  They  had 
supposed  that  the  Southern  institution  would  be  held  in  respect  by 
a  lady  so  distinguished.  Madame  Lambelle  returned  to  her 
patient. 

"Mary,  your  husband  could  not  rally.  The  shock  to  his  vitality 
was  thorough  ;  but  as  his  physical  strenght  failed,  his  moral  vision 
became  clearer.  The  character  of  our  national  sin  dawned  upon 
him  in  its  true  light.  '  Thank  God ! '  he  said,  '  this  event  will  save 
my  two  boys.'  We  were  all  sitting  about  him  conversing  ;  he  asked 
for  pen  and  paper,  and  begged  me  to  write  his  message  to  his  be- 
loved wife.  He  would  have  it  writkn,  that  his  own  words,  and  not 
another's,  should  guide  and  comfort  you.  I  followed  his  dictation 
with  pleasure.  He  read  it  afterwards,  expressed  himself  satisfied, 
and  bade  me  seal  it  in  his  presence." 

She  lifted  the  cover  of  her  trunk,  and  taking  the  packet,  placed 
it  in  the  wife's  possession.  Eagerly,  but  reverentially,  she  took  the 
sacred  remembrance  and  pressed  it  with  her  lips. 

"Read  it,  my  dear  Mary,"  besought  Filette,  "when  the  force  of 
this  grief  has  passed.  Read  it  when  you  are  alone,  when  no  intru- 
sion can  disturb  the  holy  communion  between  his  spirit  and 
yours." 

"  There  is  another  request  he  bade  me  repeat  to  you,  of  which 
your  brother  may  have  already  spoken,"  continued  the  guest,  sitting 
by  Mary's  side. 

"  He  has  said  nothing." 

"  It  was  a  painful  experience  to  him,"  said  Madame  Lambelle 
in  a  reassuring  voice,  "  and  every  word  relative  to  it  doubtless  cost 
him  many  a  pang.  I  will  open  the  way.  He  formed  a  plan  for  the 
future  residence  of  his  •  dear  wife  and  children.'  He  desired 
George  to  sell  this  homestead  and  to  take  you  all  under  his  hospi- 
table roof,  7ioii'  in  your  desolation,  leaving  future  changing  events 
to  the  '  watchful  care  of  an  ever-kind  Providence.'  Those  were 
his  words.  He  clung  to  the  hand  of  his  brother  George,  while  he 
promised  a  v/elcome  for  you,  and  guardianship  for  your  two  sons. 
This  was  about  sunset ;  the  room  was  lighted  cheerfully  by  his 
setting  glory. 


44^  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

"  James  desired  us  to  sing  around  his  bed,  the  hymn, — 

*' '  Jesus  can  make  a  dying  bed 
Feel  soft  as  downy  pillows  are  ; 
While  on  his  breast  I  lean  my  head, 
And  breathe  my  life  out  sweetly  there.' 

"  Angelic  peace  settled  upon  his  face.  At  its  close,  folding  his 
hands  upon  his  breast,  he  said  to  his  brother  in  a  whisper  of  weak- 
ness.— 

"  I   am  ready  to  depart.'  " 

"  Filette !  "  cried  Mary,  with  heart-broken  groans,  "  where  is 
mv  Redeemer?  This  death-bed  hides  Him  from  mv  si^rht.  Where 
is  the  loving  kindness  of  the  Almighty  ?  This  murder  comes 
between  it  and  me.  To  whom  shall  I  go  ?  There  is  no  arm  of 
support  in  the  awful  darkness  of  this  hour." 

After  a  deferential  and  silent  waiting,  Madame  Lambelle 
addressed  Mary  with  great  gentleness. 

"Will  you  hear  how  sweetly  your  husband  slept  in  the  embrace 
of  that  Redeemer  you  cannot  find  ?  It  is  this  distracting  grief 
which  blinds  your  sight  —  a  grief  in  which  we  all  drop  our  tears 
beside  yours.     Will  you  hear,  dear  Mary  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  yes.  I  am  compelled  to  come  face  to  face  with  that 
dying  bed,  and  with  that  grave  which  covers  my  best  and  only  love 
on  earth.     Proceed." 

"  Mr.  Lambelle  insisted  I  should  take  a  short  rest  in  the  even- 
ing, with  the  promise  to  call  me  at  any  change.  About  twelve  I 
was  summoned ;  the  realities  of  earth  were  receding.  At  one 
o'clock,  the  gentle,  loving  life  was  sweetly  yielded  to  Him  whose 
love  for  you,  dear  i\Iary,  is  stronger  than  any  earthly  affection. 
There  seemed  to  be  no  regrets  —  no  pains  —  simply  a  falling 
asleep." 

In  a  frenzy  of  grief,  Mary  repeated  over  and  over, — 

"  Oh  !  my  poor,  innocent,  murdered  James  !  " 

"  Geoge  informed  us  that  you  took  great  pains  to  obtain  flowers 
for  his  burial,"  ventured  Filette.  "  I  am  sure  it  is  a  comfort  to 
Mary." 

"True,  he  was  buried  with  flowers;  since  my  arrival  here,  I 
have  thought  it  most  singular,  but   we  found   a  white   calla  ;  in   a 


WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  447 

setting  of  green,  we  placed  it  on  Iiis  name  outside  during  thie  exer- 
cises, and  laid  it  on  his  bosom  after." 

Filette  left  the  room  to  prepare  the  dinner.  Madame  Lambelle 
soon  followed,  to  enjoy,  (as  she  said)  as  much  as  possible  of  that 
pleasant  fire  on  the  hearth,  thus  giving  Mary  the  quiet  opportunity 
she  desired,  to  loose  the  seals  upon  her  husband's  last,  loving 
words. 

This  she   reverently  did ;    her    swimming  eyes  followed    these 

lines, — 

"  jMy  dear  Mary, —  I  am  about  to  pronounce  the  hardest  words  I  have  ever 
spoken  —  an  abiding  farewell  to  you  and  my  dear  boys.  An  end  is  approach- 
ing to  the  few  happy  years  since  our  marriage,  which  have  had  but  one  shadow  ; 
that  was  my  inability  to  surround  my  family  with  a  portion  of  the  luxuries  which 
appear  to  be  bestowed  upon  some,  and  are  denied  to  others.  I  am  to  leave 
earth,  and  try  the  realities  of  that  world  concerning  which  you  and  I  have  often 
and  hopefully  spoken.  I  have  been  falsely  accused,  imprisoned,  and  beaten  to 
my  death.  I  bear  no  malice  to  my  destroyers  ;  neither  can  I  blindly  say,  'Thy 
wfll  be  done  ;'  for  I  do  not  belieVe  that  'this  murder  (and  I  can  call  it  by  no 
other  name,)  iniiicted  upon  my  poor  body,  was  the  will  of  Heaven,  or  was 
wrought  bv  the  hands  of  Divine  Love  I 

"  My  dear  Mary  !  my  suffering  wife  !  the  scales  have  fallen  from  my  sight ! 
At  last  I  see  slavery  and  its  adherents,  in  a  new  light.  It  is  a  heathen  Moloch, 
demanding  with  bloodthirsty  hands  the  continual  human  sacrifice  of  American 
citizens.  It  will  not  be  app'eased,  but  by  men's  bodies  cr  souls.  My  body  has 
been  laid  upon  its  altar.  But  let  us  be  thankful,  my  dear  wife,  that  my  soul  is 
untarnished  with  this  idol's  guilty  worship.  My  object  in  writing  is  not  only  to 
say  our  long  '  Farewell  I '  but  to  leave  you  my  will  respecting  our  two  boys. 
Mary,  as  you  revere  the  right — as  you  love  me  and  cherish  my  memory,  take 
heed  that'thev  do  not  yield  to  this  infatuation  of  laying  their  young  hope  and 
faith  on  the  aftar  of  slaverv.  Teach  their  youthful  hearts  to  love  and  respect 
all  races  of  men.  Teach  them  the  humanity  of  Christ,  which  knew  no  distinc- 
tion of  persons  ;  for,  my  dear  wife,  remember  while  your  heart  is  bleeding  for 
me,  that  thousands  in  our  land,  of  another  color,  are  daily  fainting  or  dying 
under  the  same  lash  that  murdered  their  father  !  Do  not  shock  their  tender 
minds  at  present  with  the  secret  of  my  death.  When  Thad  shall  have  attained 
the  age  of  sixteen,  call  them  to  you,  Mary,  and  read  them  this  bloody  chapter  of 
my  life  and  Uncle  George's.  On  that  birth-day,  cause  them  to  take  the  oath  of 
allegiance  to  Freedom,  and  ot  enmity  to  Bondage. 

"  My  mistake,  dear  Mary,  was  in  yielding  blindly  to  the  blandishments  of 
wrong  and  injustice,  because  considered  constitutional,  also  in  listening  to  the 
'syren  tongue  of  reconciliation'  with  the  Southern  shatne.  Let  my  boys  never 
fall  into  that  error.  I  was  never  styled  an  abolitionist.  It  was  neither  that 
name  or  spirit  that  cost  my  life.  Teach  my  sons  hereafter,  the  abolitionist  prin- 
ciples and  faith.  Let  them  become  two  of  their  straitest  sect,  squaring  their 
lives  by  conscience  and  not  by  compromise,  with  v.hat  a  distinguished  Divine, 


448  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

who  had  evidently  been  breathed  upon  by  the  spirit  God,  called  the  *  sum  of  all 
villanies.' 

"  My  beloved  wife,  this  is  my  last  will  and  testament  concerning  our  dear 
boys.  The  little  of  property  I  leave  for  you  and  them,  will  be  taken  care  of 
by  mv  dear  brother  George.  Trust  him,  Mary,  and  follow  his  advice  ;  he  knows 
inv  wishes.  Mv  strength  is  failing.  It  is  hard  to  think  that  when  I  gave  you 
and  the  children  the  parting  kiss  and  shake  of  the  hand,  on  our  home  threshold, 
on  that  not-far-away,  lovely  autumn  day,  it  was  forever.  Adieu,  dear  ones, 
adieu  ! " 

Before  the  wife  had  read  this  tender  missive  from  her  dying  hus- 
band, she  stumbled  to  the  sofa,  nearly  fainting,  yet  clinging  uncon- 
sciously to  the  paper  in  her  hand.  Darkness  surrounded  her.  She 
had  not  strength  even  to  cry,  "  My  God  !  ^Nly  God  !  Why  hast 
thou  forsaken  me?"'  She  could  turn  no  where  for  help.  At  inter- 
vals, she  raised  the  trembling  manuscript  before  her  dizzy  sight 
and  whitened  face  ;  at  intervals,  the  hand  refused  its  of!ice,  and 
dropped  heavily  to  the  floor.  At  lenghth,  she  reached  the  last 
"Adieu."  Dazed  and  stunned,  her  throbbing  heart  refused  speech, 
incoherently  pouring  forth  low,  sobbing  moans.  No  one  lifted  the 
latch  of  the  door;  none  intruded  into  the  sanctity  of  the  apartment 
given  up  to  her.  Alone  she  was,  with  this  last  voice  of  the  dead. 
At  last,  in  an  agony  of  torture,  speech  came  to  her  relief. 

"'Adieu,  dear  ones,  adieu  !  '  "  she  moaned.  "  Yet  he  can  never 
hear  our  affectionate  response  !  Nevermore  shall  I  hear  his  pleas- 
ant voice!  Nevermore  will  life  seem  beautiful  in  the  li^ht  of  his 
loving  face  !  Oh  !  it  was  all,  all  to  me  !  Like  his  Master,  *  num- 
bered with  the  transgressors  i '  beaten  —  killed  —  cruelly  murdered  ! 
Poor!  struggling  with  the  burdens  of  life!  while  extending  the 
hand  of  brotherly  love  to  the  proud  Southerner,  struck  down  by  his 
haughty  pride  !     Dead  !  white  in  his  grave  !  " 

The  preparation  for  dinner  was  carried  forward  in  the  kitchen, 
with  careful  step  and  hushed  voices.  It  seemed  to  all,  as  if  James 
Buddington  had  been  brought  home  in  his  coffin,  that  day,  and 
that  the  last  look  upon  the  dead  had  but  just  been  taken.  Madame 
Lambelle  glided  about,  laying  the  table  and  assisting  in  other 
ways,  against  the  remonstrances  of  Filette,  that  it  would  be  too 
much  for  her. 

All  was  ready.  The  madame  entered  her  room,  and  returned 
alone. 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  449 

"Mary  desires  nothing.  She  bids  us  leave  her  alone.  Her 
sacrament  of  suffering  must  be  received  with  fasting." 

"  Solitude  is  better  at  present  than  -^ociet}^"  replied  George. 
"  The  words  of  comfort  we  might  offer  would  prove  onl}'  vinegar 
and  gall  to  her  extremity." 

_  "I  think  so,"  answered  the  lady.  "The  healing  of  nature  and 
time  will  cicatrize  those  wounds  I  have  been  the  instrument  of  in- 
flicting to-day.     Their  still  ministry  produces  great  cures." 

"Alydear  madame,  jw/  have  inflicted  no  wounds  upon  Sister 
Mary.  They  fell  upon  her  from  the  guilty  hands  of  the  gentlemen 
and  clergy  of  St.  Louis.  Yours  has  been  a  mission  of  mercy  to 
the  bereaved." 

"  And  yet,  Mr.  Buddington,  but  for  one  reason,  I  could  not  have 
made  this  journey  from  New  York  to  rehearse  a  tragedy,  the  sim- 
ple thought  of  which  makes  my  blood  chill.  I  could  not  have 
stood  by  Mary,  and  witnessed  the  harrowing  effects  of  that  re- 
hearsal, but  for  one  stimulating  cause,  that  is,  the  utter  horror  and 
detestation  in  which  I  hold  Southern  principles  and  practices. 
Therefore  my  work  here  is  only  begun.  Before  my  departure,  I 
desire  to  lead  the  wife  of  James  Buddington  into'  channels  of 
thought  similar  to  my  own.  1  must  endeavor  to  lead  her  mind  into 
sympathy  with  those  noble  co-workers,  whose  highest  aim  is  the 
abolition  of  this  heathenish  system  which  holds  in  abject  thrall  our 
nation's  most  gigantic  intellects  —  which  renders  our  priests, 
clergy  and  educators  its  most  servile  myrmidons." 

"I  am  a  volunteer  in  your  service,  Madame  Lambelle ;  but  suc- 
cess appears  almost  an  impossibility." 

"Oh,  no  !  not  an  impossibility,  eventually.  You  know  that  truth 
is  eternal.  The  most  prominent  truth  of  this  age  stands  high  and 
clear,  like  an  icy  peak  against  empyrean  blue.  It  is  this, — '  Man's 
birthright  is  Liberty ! '  My  faith  is  strong  —  strong  in  the  immu- 
tability of  this  one  dominant  truth.  It  is  anchored  in  the  fears 
and  denunciations  of  the  Souihron.  You  should  have  been  pres- 
ent at  the  meeting  in  St.  Louis,  held  in  honor  of  the  punishment 
of  yourself  and  brother.  You  would  then  see  that  you  were  only 
the  first  fruits  of  a  sanguinary  harvest,  for  which  their  blades  are 
already  whetted.  The  ferocity  of  the  Southerners  in  defence  of 
their  domestic  institution  betrays  its  danger.     Truth  will  prevail  1  " 


45 O  WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

"You  speak  of  man's  birthright,  madame.  The  Southerner  de- 
clares iTiaii  has  his  birthright  ah-eady.  In  proof  they  cite  York- 
town  and  our  National  Flag.  They  reckon  all  color,  of  whatever 
nature,  with  their  cattle.'** 

"That  is  because,  for  a  long  period,  they  have  smothered  the 
voice  of  conscience  till  it  makes  no  appeal.  Color  diminishes  not, 
in  the  least,  a  claim  to  manhood,  or  the  fulfillment  of  manhood's 
destiny.  It  would  be  strange,  indeed,  if  the  whole  earth  were  peo- 
pled with  pale  faces.  Man  would  not  be  in  harmony  with  the  rest 
of  creation  —  wrth  animals,  flowers,  fruits,  or  precious  stones.  In 
each  of  these  is  found  a  wide  variety,  enhancing  their  beauty  and 
value.  No,  Mr.  George,  the  slaveholder's  definition  and  valuation 
of  the  color  of  men  will  not  stand  the  fiery  ordeal  of  the  future. 

"  I  confess  to  some  surprise  at  finding  in  yourself  an  advocate  of 
the  equality  of  the  races.  Do  you  believe  in  their  original  mental 
equality  as  a  part  of  the  plan  of  Divine  economy?" 

"  Most  certainly  1  We  have  only  to  turn  the  pages  of  history,  to 
study  the  rise  and  fall  of  nations,  to  learn  out  of  what  hordes  of 
barbarism  sprang  civilization,  and  the  arts, —  the  polish  and  refine- 
ment of  the  present.  The  African  in  this  country  was  first  robbed 
of  his  birthright,  and,  consequently,  of  all  that  birthright  stipulates. 
The  prime  object  of  the  enslaver  is  to  crush  out  the  intelUect  of 
his  victim.  He  has  left  no  stone  unturned  in  its  accomplishment. 
Nevertheless,  the  demand  of  the  Creator  for  the  well-being  of  His 
stolen  children  in  our  land  is  as  strenuous  as  if  they  were  not  in 
bondage.  Chains  are  not  excuses  in  His  eyes.  Examine  the  sub- 
ject for  yourself,  with  an  eye  to  justice,  and  I  am  sure  you  will 
become  one  of  the  inflexible  advocates  of  the  down-trodden  race. 
I  have  but  one  word  more  to  say, —  I  have  sounded  this  American 
oppression  —  I  have  dropped  a  plummet  to  its  profoundest  depths. 
I  find  it  has  no  prejudice  of  color.  It  would  as  soon  lead  the  fet- 
tered Saxon  to  its  marts  as  the  African,  were  it  possible." 

They  left  the  table.  George  had  commenced  preparations  for 
the  departure  of  his  brother's  family.  Deacon  Brown  had  secured 
the  refusal  of  the  farm  for  his  married  son.  Some  settlement  of 
preliminaries  was  the  order  for  the  afternoon.  The  ladies  were 
left  by  themselves.     Filette  was  delighted  to  have  the  society  of 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  45 1 

the  dear  honored  guest.  Ov^er  her  work-basket  on  her  lap  twined 
roses,  dimples  and  smiles. 

Towards  evening,  the  soft  step  of  Madame  Lambelle  entered 
her  own  room.  Mary,  exhausted,  slept.  James'  letter,  containing 
the  last  "  adieu,"  had  slipped  from  her  grasp  and  lay  upon  the 
carpet.  Like  a  thoughtful  nurse,  the  kind  lady  carefully  withdrew 
it,  folding  it  away  from  sight,  and  left  the  sleeper  to  her  much 
needed  rest. 

At  their  late  tea  by  candle-light,  before  the  glowing  back-log  on 
the  hearth,  Mary  came  in  between  the  caressing  arms  of  her  two 
steadfast  friends. 

''  Is  mother  sick  ? "  inquired  Thad  and  Alfy,  in  their  seats  at 
table. 

''Not  quite  well,"  answered  Uncle  George  quickly,  "Don't  be 
troubled  ;  she  will  be  better  to-morrow.  Our  blessed  '  Lady  of 
Mercy,''  whom  you  both  admire,  works  wonderful  cures."  Confid- 
ing and  affectionate  smiles  lighted  up  their  grieved  faces  as  they 
shyly  turned  them  towards  madame,  their  guest. 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  George,"  bowed  the  lady.  "I  could  not 
choose  a  more  honorable  title  —  I  would  that  I  were  worthy." 
Turning  to  the  boys,  she  said  comfortingly,  "  Dear  mother  shall  be 
carefully  nursed  ;  and  I  have  been  thinking  that  the  two  remaining 
evenings  after  this,  of  my  stay  in  this  pleasant  home,  must  be  more 
especially  devoted  to  Thad  and  Alfy.  Suppose  you  both,  with  our 
beautiful  Hebe  as  mistress  of  ceremonies,  should  give  us  all  a 
reception  in  this  flame-lighted,  dancing-shadowed  room.  I  love 
this  kitchen,  and  every  sturdy  beam  in  it.'  I  desire  to  carry  back 
to  the  city  a  social  picture  of  this  family  within  it.  The 'reception 
might  take  place  to  morrow  evening ;  then,  the  evening  after,  I  will 
give  a  reception  in  my  pretty  boudoir.  How  does  that  please  my 
young  friends  ? "' 

Two  pairs  of  beaming  eyes  lifted  to  hers  in  a  bashful  silence. 
Uncle  George  came  to  the  rescue. 

"  Shall  I  be  spokesman,  Thad  ?  I  have  no  doubt  they  would  be 
very  happy  to  hold  this  reception.  If  my  assistance  will  be  accept- 
able boys,  I  am  at  your  service." 

"  Thank  you,  uncle ;  you  always  come  to  our  aid.     We  are  very 


452  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

grateful.     We  should  make  an  awkward  evening's  entertainment, 
without  you." 

The  house  was  enlivened  the  next  day  by  the  early  patting  of 
boyish  feet,  low  voiced  conferences,  and  sudden  exclamations. 
Even  the  mother's  sad  eyes  lifted  brighter,  as  each  of  her  boys 
threw  an  arm  about  her  neck,  and  whispered  in  her  ear  for  advice. 
At  the  breakfast-table,  notes  of  invitation  were  found  upon  four 
plates.     The  reception  hour  was  six. 

"  None  too  early  for  a  cold  winter  night,"  said  Uncle  George. 

At  the  going  down  of  the  sun,  the  new  maple  back-log  began  to 
burn  red  ;  its  white,  wedge-shaped  ends  were  beaded  with  saccha- 
rine dew,  which  dripped  slowly  upon  hissing  coals  below.  The 
heavy  old  andirons  wore  a  stately  and  official  air  in  supporting  the 
high-piled,  blazing  faggots  in  front.  Flame-lighted  indeed,  was 
the  dear  old  kitchen  ;  and  with  the  guests  would  arrive  the 
dancing  shadows  on  the  walls.  The  white,  sanded  floor,  which 
would  not  soil  the  train  of  a  queen,  (according  to  Filette)  was  set 
about  with  the  farmer's  rude,  high-backed  chairs.  One  rocker  was 
placed  for  the  pale,  suffering  ]\Iar3\ 

At  a  quarter  past  six,  Thad  and  Alfy  received  their  guests. 
Thad  proudly  handed  Zaffiri  (for  so  Madame  Lambelle  requested 
to  be  called)  to  a  high-backed  chair,  while  Alfy  seated  his  mother. 
Uncle  George  and  Filette  entered  <?«  cereuionie  from  the  south  room. 
Shadows  and  vanishing  silhouettes  began  a  witching  revelry. 

Zaffiri  dressed  for  the  evening,  though  plainly.  During  the  day 
she  conferred  with  M^ry ;  paying  a  respectful  deference  to  her 
wishes. 

"  I  only  wish,"  said  Zaffiri,  "  to  pay  my  respects  to  the  occasion, 
and  win  their  young  minds  to  the  impressions  I  shall  strive  to  make 
upon  them  to  morrow  evening.  I  often  think  that  the  more  con- 
siderately we  deal  with  the  manly  pride  of  youth,  the  more  easily 
we  guide  them  into  wholesome  truths." 

*'  I  confide  entirely  in  your  thoughtful  regard  for  me  and  them,*' 
gratefully  answered  Mary.  "  Dress  and  do  whatever  your  sweet 
judgment  suggests." 

Therefore,  Zaffiri  stepped  into  the  reception-room,  arrayed  in 
blue  silk  moire  with  silver  ornaments.  The  long  braids  of  her 
pale  wheaten  hair  were  looped  at  the  back  of  her  head,  over  which  a 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  •       453 

few  curls  were  fastened  by  a  silver  arrow ;  and  a  small  coronet  of 
silver  set  above  her  forehead.  A  filigree  brooch  of  silver  fastened 
the  fine  lace  collar  at  her  throat.  A  snow-white  shawl,  crocheted 
of  fleecy  wool,  fell  from  her  shoulders,  dropping  its  heavy  fringes 
nearly  to  the  floor. 

The  wonder  and  adoration  of  the  two  youthful  hosts  were  a 
study  for  one  observant  of  the  lights  and  shades  of  childhood. 
Thad  and  Alfy  sat  one  on  each  side  of  her.  Filette  admired  the 
pretty  picture  thus  presented,  and  said  in  a  low  tone  to  Uncle 
George, — 

The  beautiful  princess  and  her  two  pages." 

She  was  answered  by  an  approving  smile. 

*'  Uncle  George,  Madame  Lambelle  is  to  tell  us  of  Italy  to- 
night." 

"Yes,  Alfy.  I  expect  your  other  guests  will  be  equally  inter- 
ested with  yourselves.  We  shall  forget  our  snows  and  cold  winds  ; 
we  shall  sit  under  olives  and  vines  and  glide  about  in  gay  gon- 
dolas." 

"  Uncle  George,  what  are  gondolas  ?  " 

"Your  distinguished  guest  will  soon  inform  you,  Alfy ;  she  knows 
better  than  I. 

"  Most  of  my  time  in  Italy  was  passed  in  Florence  ;  but  I  have 
seen  Venice  and  glided  over  her  canals,  which  are  used  in  the 
place  of  streets,  for  Venice  seems  to  rise  from  the  bosom  of  the 
sea,  and  to  float,  swan-like  upon  it,  with  her  numberless  domes, 
towers,  spires  and  pinnacles.  These  canals  are  traversed  by  gon- 
dolas, or  boats,  instead  of  carriages.  The  grand  canal  is  bordered 
on  each  side  by  magnificent  old  palaces,  with  light  arabesque  bal- 
conies and  marble  porticoes.  These  palaces  present  a  superb 
scene;  and  their  gay  occupants  trip  down  the  marble  steps  into  the 
gondolas,  bright  with  carpets  and  curtains,  for  a  church  or  festivi- 
ties—  just  as  in  Broadway  one  would  enter  a  barouche  for  a  drive. 
The  church  of  St.  Marks  rivals  in  splendor  any  edifice  in  Europe. 
Venice  is  built  on  seventy  islands  ;  and,  next  to  Rome,  is  the  finest 
of  the  Italian  cities." 

"  Oh  !  mother,  exclaimed  Alfy  ;  ''  I  should  like  to  ride  in  a  gon- 
dola ! " 

"  Perhaps  you  may  some  time,  my  son." 


454  '  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"It  is  not  impossible !  "  said  Madame  Lambelle,  laying  her  hand 
on  his  fair  hair.     "  Ah  !  there's  music  on  the  air  !  " 

A  sound  of  sleigh  bells  dashed  around  the  house. 

"  I  will  attend  to  the  arrival,"  said  Uncle  George  ;  and  presently 
he  introduced  the  pleasant  surprise  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Snow,  to  the 
reception-room.  Thad  and  Alfy  came  forward  to  welcome  their 
unexpected  guest.  Filette  expressed  the  wish  of  her  father  and 
mother,  that  their  presence  should  cause  no  interruption,  and  the 
subject  of  Italy  was  resumed  in  a  manner  to  heighten  the  general, 
social  interest.  Rome,  St.  Peter's,  the  Pope  and  his  palace,  paint- 
ing and  sculpture  were  discussed  with  a  common  pleasure,  and  with 
the  happy  effect  of  excluding  neighborhood  gossip  and  scandal. 

Some  frigidity  marked  the  introduction  of  Filette's  parents  to  the 
elegantly  dressed  lady,  but  before  the  evening  wore  away  they  took 
her  to  their  hearts  with  marked  evidences  of  love  and  respect. 
Uncle  George  and  Filette  threw  open  the  door  of  the  "  south  room  " 
at  eight,  where  a  luxurious  dinner,  by  the  light  of  a  bright  fire  on 
the  hearth  and  winking  candles,  tempted  the  appetites  of  the  happy 
party.  Thad  and  Alfy  came  near  a  resort  to  the  "  code  of  honor," 
concerning  the  escort  of  Zafhri  to  the  supper  room.  The  lady 
declared  peace,  by  asserting  her  need  of  a  double  attendance,  and 
the  inexpressible  pleasure  it  would  confer  to  walk  between  the 
two  hosts  of  the  evening. 

The  turkey  was  browned  to  an  epicure's  taste,  the  charlotte  russe 
was  ''  hotel,"  said  Uncle  George.  Mr.  Snow  gave  his  opinion  that 
there  must  have  fallen  a  "  hard  frost "  in  Filette's  oven,  when  she 
baked  the  cakes  and  cream  pies,  while  the  confectionery  and  nuts 
received  especial  favor. 

The  most  melancholy  feature  was  the  vacant  chair  at  the  head 
of  the  table,  before  an  unturned  plate,  upon  which  rested  a  white, 
waxen  calla  lily.  The  most  bcmitifid  feature,  said  Zafhri,  was  the 
fresh  blooming  roses  in  the  garden  of  Filette's  radiant  face.  The 
others  whispered  among  themselves,  that  the  i-oyal  feature  of  the 
feast  was  the  fairy  princess,  Zaffiri. 

After  refreshments,  3Irs.  Snow  drew  Mary  to  the  boudoir  parlor. 
There  she  imparted  such  strength  to  the  mind  weakened  by  suf- 
fering, as  none  but  the  strong,  clear-visioned,  can  offer. 

"  My  heart  bleeds  for  you,   Mary,  and  as  we  are    commanded 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  455 

to  weep  with  those  that  weep,  I  have  wept  with  you  many  times 
since  Filette  left  home.  Now  take  some  support  and  strength 
for  your  future  peace.  Although  James  is  gone,  bis  gentle  mem- 
ory remains  to  you,  an  unblemished  inheritance.  If  he  had  gone 
to  Texas  and  taken  up  his  abode,  death  would  have  found  him 
there  ;  Mary,  bear  with  me,  death  would  have  found  him  stained 
with  heinous  crime  toward  his  fellow-men  ! ''' 

"  No,  no,  dear  friend  !  do  not  speak  thus." 

"  Yes,  i\Iary,  these  are  words  of  truth  and  soberness  ;  they  wound 
but  to  heal.  Whoever  consents  to  hold  a  man  in  bondage,  vir- 
tually subscribes  to  every  article  of  the  slave  code.  These  articles 
are;  first,  the  darkest  ignorance,  which  is  nothing  more  nor  less 
than  stamping  out  the  intellect.  The  next  article  is  universal  con- 
cubinage ;  for  no  slave  can  marry.  The  third  is  subjection,  which 
entails  upon  the  owner  the  acts  of  whipping,  chaining,  and  often 
of  killing  a  slave  outright.  Another  article,  is  robbery  in  almost 
every  degree.  First,  the  owner  robs  of  liberty,  then  of  manhood, 
then  of  wages  for  a  whole  lifetime  of  toil,  and  finally,  the  robbery 
and  sale  of  what  a  mother's  heartstrings  bind  closer  than  life  itself, 
her  children  !  " 

Mary  placed  her  hand  deprecatingly  upon  Mrs.  Snow's  arm, 
and  thrust  the  questioning  and  almost  angered  glance  upon  the 
speaker, — 

"How  can  you  suppose  my  James  could  have  accepted  such 
guilt?" 

"  Because,  Marv,  it  could  not  be  otherwise.  James  Buddington, 
the  affectionate  husband  and  father  —  James  Buddington,  the  noble 
friend,  the  upright  townsman,  could  go  into  no  Southern  State,  and 
live  there,  a  respected  Southern  citizen,  without  assuming  every 
whit  of  this  burden  of  guilt !  Much  less  could  he  and  his  innocent 
boys  dwell  in  Texas,  free  from  crime,  for  the  very  basis  of  the  set- 
tlement of  that  State  is  the  extension  of  slavery,  the  embodiment 
of  all  that  our  Northern  statute  books  denominate  as  crime ;  those 
slaveholders  who  are  most  defiant  of  justice  and  humanity,  have 
carried  slaves  there  and  taken  up  their  abode  ;  have  placed  them- 
selves at  the  head  of  its  government.  My  dear  friend,  your  hus- 
band and  brother  and  sons  cannot  take  coals  of  fire  in  their  bosoms 
and  not  be  burned,  any  less  than  others." 


456  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

The  desolate  wife  buried  her  face  in  her  hands,  and  cried,  sob- 

bingly,— 

"  Oh !  INIrs.  Snow,  my  husband  was  not  drawn  away  from  earth 
by  the  merciful  hand  of  a  loving  Creator  !  He  was  murdered ! 
His  frail,  spotless  life  was  threshed  out  of  him  by  the  cruel  whip  ! 
My  James  was  murdered !  my  poor  James  was  whipped  to 
death  !  " 

"  Mary,  you  shock  me  !  " 

*'  It  is  the  truth ;  my  James  was  murdered  in  St.  Louis,  and 
George  would  have  been,  had  not  his  constitution  been  stronger. 
They  said  the  brothers  stole  three  slaves  !  Oh !  I  cannot  tell  you, 
Filette  knows  !  Bury  this  secret  in  your  heart  of  hearts,  for  the 
present." 

"  Certainly,  Mary,  I  shall  learn  all  from  Filette.  But,  in  the  midst 
of  my  astonishment,  I  must  declare  that  such  an  act  but  verities 
my  words  j  no  honest.  Northern  man  can  live  among  Southerners  ! 
So  they  shot  the  righteous  and  God-fearing  Lovejoy!  hunted  him 
as  their  own  bloodhounds  hunt  the  slave !  and  murdered  him,  be- 
cause he  endeavored  to  reason  with  them  on  our  National  sin  ! 
Why.  Mary,  the  Southerners  are  organizing  themselves  into  a  uni- 
versal body  of  banditti,  to  whip,  imprison,  murder,  or  drive  out 
whoever  does  not  openly  sanction  their  system  and  practices  ! 
Dear  me  !  they  even  offer  five,  and  ten  thousand  dollars  reward  for 
the  heads  of  some  of  our  Northern,  most  saint-like  men !  Mary, 
your  sorrow  is  indeed  hard  to  bear.  How  is  George  moved  by  this 
terrible  event? " 

"  He  is  mostly  reticent  j  he  appears  pained  to  revert  to  it. 
Madame  Lambelle,  who  was  with  James  in  his  last  days,  and  at  his 
death,  came  here  purposely  to  relate  the  particulars.  She  brought 
a  letter  dictated  by  James,  to  me." 

Blinded  by  weeping,  she  groped  her  way  to  the  repository  of  the 
letter,  and  placed  it  in  Mrs.  Snow's  hand. 

"  Read  for  yourself,  my  friend." 

Mrs.  Snow  complied,  progressing  slowly  through  tearful  sight ; 
then  folding  it  carefully,  replaced  it  herself. 

"  Mary,"  she  said  in  a  gentle  but  persuasive  voice,  that  last  will 
and  testament  is  the  crown  of  James' life  ;  he  needs  no  other  in 
Heaven.     It  is  worth  more  to  you  and  your  children  than  a  million 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  457 

of  gold.  Try  and  inform  yourself  of  the  nature  of  this  hydra-headed 
monster,  which  befouls  every  beautiful  thing  in  our  land.  Read  and 
think  upon  it;  become  yourself  familiar  with  the  pure  teachings  the 
dead  father  would  have  you  infuse  into  those  young  minds.  Teach 
them  to  feel  for  the  man  of  color,  not  only  commiseration,  but  a 
true  brotherly  love.  Teach  them  to  hate  not  only  the  iron  chain 
upon  the  Southern  slave,  but  the  subtile,  legal  shackles  which  fetter 
the  whole  North.  Most  happy  will  I  be  to  strengthen  your  arms 
for  the  work." 

A  light  knock  at  the  door  closed  the  interview.  Filette  brought 
the  message  that  snow  was  falling;  her  father  was  anxious  to  be  on 
the  way  home.  Mrs.  Snow  and  Mary  met  happy  faces  in  the 
flame-lighted  kitchen.  The  hour  of  reception  was  over,  yet  Zaffiri 
was  still  attended  by  her  two  pages,  and  causing  the  white-haired 
visitor  to  forget  his  years. 

Mary  felt  wounded  by  the  straightforward  words  of  Mrs.  Snow, 
though  she  had  said,  ''  they  wound  but  to  heal  ; "  though  she  left 
a  warm  kiss  and  a  teardrop  on  her  forehead.  But  on  reflection, 
Mrs.  Snow's  sharp  sentences  became  words  of  healing.  Mary's 
manner  grew  firmer  and  more  self-reliant.  Day  by  day  and  week 
by  week,  the  crushed  look  of  suffering  assumed  a  more  complacent 
determination  to  follow  the  new  light  dawning  before  her. 

The  next  evening's  reception  was  held  in  the  parlor-boudoir. 
Madame  Lambelle  presided  with  a  suave  grace,  not  before  wit- 
nessed. Her  character  of  hostess  was  a  pleasing  contrast  to  that 
of  the  "  Blessed  Lady  of  Mercy."  Her  guests  were  received  with 
the  dignity  and  welcome  pertaining  to  her  elegant  mansion  and 
apartments  in  the  city.  When  all  were  assembled,  she  addressed 
them  in  a  winning  voice.  ^ 

"  My  dear  friends,  I  have  given  this  welcome  for  a  purpose  — 
not  merely  to  wile  away  the  hours  in  selfish,  social  pleasure  ;  but 
to  give  direction  to  these  young  minds  ;  and,  besides,  to  electrify 
our  own  dormant  thoughts  and  powers.  I  trust  that  our  room  will 
be  flame-lighted  to-night  with  the  fires  of  righteous  indignation. 
We  will  have  shadows  and  silhouettes  that  will  not  flit  away  like 
those  of  the  dear  old  kitchen.  I  trust  they  will  remain  impressed 
upon  our  inner  spirits. 

"  Come,  Thad  and  Alfy ;  you  should  occupy  seats  of  honor.    Mr. 


45 S  WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Buddington,  what  is  your  opinion  of  slavery,  as  one  of  the  institu- 
tions of  our  country  ?  " 

"  Madame,  I  will  confess,  that  hitherto  my  ideas  of  it  have  been 
those  of  the  average  American.  Vou  know  it  receives  a  general 
support  North,  as  well  as  South.  I  have  never  entered  my  protest 
against  it.  However,  my  judgment  of  its  wrong  and  injustice  has 
been  recently  quickened.  Any  facts  or  views,  relative  to  this  sys- 
tem of  bondage,  will  fall,  to-night,  upon  willing  ears." 

"  I  think  the  Constitution,  within  which  it  is  crystalized,  has 
been,  and  is  now,  the  *  Chinese  Wall,'  which  neither  politics,  mor- 
ality or  religion  dare  attempt  to  scale." 

"  Yes,  madame,  that  is  the  forbidden  barrier  which  guards  its 
sanctity.  Yet,  is  it  not  strange  that  a  people  who  have  struggled 
for  their  own  freedom,  from  mere  kingly  thraldom,  should  allow  a 
system  which  levels  men  to  brutes,  and  which  barters  humanity 
in  shambles,  to  be  the  very  cornerstone  of  their  own  Magna 
Charta .?  " 

"To  one  reflecting,  it  is  singular — yQt  few  reflect.  I  scarcely 
know  how  it  was  brought  about  myself." 

Filette  replied, — 

"  My  father  says  it  was  done  in  the  same  spirit  of  compromise 
which  has  been  the  bane  of  the  country  ever  since." 

"That  is  true,"  replied  Zaffiri.  "South  Carolina  and  Georgia 
threatened  to  secede  from  the  Federal  Compact  of  States,  unless 
slavery  and  the  slave  trade  were  granted.  The  demand  was 
yielded.     Thus,  in  the  beginning,  our  Upas  tree  was  planted." 

She  turned  to  Thad  and  Alfy,  and  asked, — 

"  Do  my  young  friends  understand  the  meaning  of  compromise  ? 
probably  not.  Then  just  here,  explanation  may  be  necessary.  A 
compromise  is  an  agreement  between  parties  in  controversy,  or  a 
mutual  yieldmg  of  certain  points,  to  settle  differences  ;  and  this  is 
often  done  contrary  to  the  voice  of  conscience,  and  in  direct  viola- 
tion of  justice  ;  "  then,  catching  the  perplexed  look  of  their  earnest 
eyes  turned  full  upon  her,  she  said  with  a  merry  laugh,  in  which 
others  joined,  "  I  doubt  if  my  explanation  is  not  more  difficult  than 
the  original  term." 

"  I  can  illustrate,  I  think,  with  your  permisssisn,  Madame  Lam- 
belle." 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  459 

"  Certainl}^  sir  —  I  will  thank  you." 

"  Well,  Thad  and  Alfy ;  a  compromise  is  after  this  fashion. 
Alfy,  suppose  Thad  should  take  it  into  his  head,  to  make  your 
dear  old  '  Ned  '  draw  a  heavy  load  up  our  steep  hill,  here  ;  sup- 
pose Thad  piled  on  the  hay,  in  the  low  meadow,  in  such  a  cruel 
weight  as  he  never  drew  before.  When  you  two  and  Ned  get  a 
few  steps  up  the  hill,  you  say, — 

"*No,  Thad,  Ned  cannot  draw  this  load.' 

"  Thad  says  determinedly, — 

"  '  He  shall ! '  and  commences  whipping. 

"  Alfy  remonstrates  ;  says  it  is  unmerciful.     Thad  says, — 

" '  You  take  the  lines  and  drive,  while  I  beat  him.' 

"  Alfy  throws  the  lines  over  Ned's  back,  and  says, — 

"  '  I  will  not  drive  ! '  and  proceeds  to  unhitch  his  old  friend  from 
the  shafts.  Thad  flies  into  a  rage,  and  declares  he  will  never  do 
another  stroke  of  work  on  the  farm,  unless  that  load  goes  up  the 
hill.  After  much  parleying,  Alfy  takes  the  reins  a^ain.  Thad 
takes  the  whip.  Old  Ned,  straming,  panting  and  falling,  reaches 
the  top  of  the  hill ;  where,  having  burst  a  blood  vessel,  he  falls 
dead.     A/fy  has  comp?'omised.'' 

'•True,"  continued  Filette,  "Alfy  has  taken  the  reins  and  driven 
Ned  up  hill,  with  his  heart  aching,  his  eyes  filled  wich  tears  —  con- 
trary to  the  voice  of  conscience,  and  to  every  human  impulse  ; 
because  Thad  is  his  brother,  and  he  desires  to  keep  the  peace 
between  themselves." 

"  I  would  never  do  such  a  thing,  mother,"  retorted  Alfy  quickly, 
turning  to  her  as  the  only  remaining  friend  of  the  company. 
Genuine  tear-drops  bedewed  his  flushed  cheeks.  "  I  would  unhitch 
'Ned'  at  any  rate." 

"  And  I  don't  think  I  should  ever  treat  Ned  in  that  way.  Uncle 
George,"  answered  Thad,  with  high-colored  indignation. 

"  No  !  no  !  my  sons,  do  not  feel  hurt ;  this  is  only  a  supposition. 
I  am  glad  to  see  you  defend  yourselves  against  so  cruel  an  accusa- 
tion, if  you  think  it  so." 

Madame  Lambelle  cast  an  arm  about  the  shoulder  of  each,  say- 
ing laughingly, — 

"  Ah  1  I  see ;  these  roses  spring  from  a  rich  soil  ;  these  hearts 
are  all    right;  we    wish    them    to    remain    so.     Therefore   we   are 


460  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

endeavoring  to  make  a  deep  impression  of  the  wickedness  of  com-- 
promise.     In  this  comparison,  call  Thad  the  South  and  Alfy  the 
North  —  thus   you  will  understand.     Remember,    Madame    Lam- 
belle  seeks  always  to  find  you  both  advocates  of  the  right ;  follow- 
ing the  voice  of  conscience  without  compromise." 

"  Some  persons,  Madame  Lambelle,  appear  to  '  have  confused 
ideas  of  right  and  wrong  —  substituting  the  latter  for  the  former 
oftentimes,"  said  Mary.  "  My  sons  must  distinguish  the  differ- 
ence. The  Southerner  pronounces  slavery  right.  Let  us  see  if 
it  be  so.  Now  my  sons,  listen  well  to  the  kind  lady,  and  judge  for 
yourselves." 

"  The  most  accurate  measure  of  right  and  wrong,  in  my  opinion, 
is  the  Golden  Rule.     Thad,  can  you  repeat  it  ?  " 

"  Both  of  us  can.  Father  taught  us  to  act  upon  the  '  Golden 
Rule  '  with  our  neighbors,"  he  added,  in  a  subdued  and  gentle 

voice. 

"That  was  excellent  teaching.  Doubtless  you  will  remember 
dear  father's  example  to  the  end  of  your  lives." 

"  We  will  try,"  replied  Thad,  with  the  least  tinge  of  conservatism 
in  his  manner. 

Mary,  who  knew  every  fibre  of  Thad's  temperament,  had  experi- 
enced some  trials  under  that  '  Rule,'  but  she  believed  he  had  not 
fallen  from  the  standard.  She  then  wisely  requested  Alfy  to 
repeat  the  words  to  madame.  The  fair  boy's  face,  sweet  as  a  June 
sky  swept  of  clouds,  turned  fondly  to  his  mother. 

"  Whatsoever  ye  would  that  men  should  do  to  you,  do  ye  even 
so  unto  them." 

"  Oh!  that  is  beautiful !  "  ejaculated  Zaffiri. 

She  passed  her  white,  jeweled  hand  over  Alfy's  bent  face.,  for  he 
was  shy  and  timid  when  she  addressed  him. 

"  By  this  '  Rule  '  we  will  see  if  slavery  is  right  or  wrong.  Now, 
suppose  some  people  from  a  foreign  countr}'  should  land  at  New 
Haven, -and  come  up  here  to  this  quiet  home  in  the  night  and  seize 
mother  and  both  of  you  ;  that  they  should  fasten  iron  hand-cuffs 
on  your  wrists  ;  and  should  fasten  you  all  to  a  long  chain,  with  many 
others  about  —  say  Mr.  Brown's  family  and  many  of  your  neigh- 
bors ;  that  these  foreigners  should  drive  this  gang,  as  it  is  called, 
to  their  ship,  on  foot,  cursing  you  all,  and  beating  you  with  whips 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  46 1 

if  they  thought  necessary.  Suppose  they  should  force  you  on 
board,  and  sail  away  far  from  your  home  and  kindred.  Then, 
after  landing  in  another  country,  they  should  place  Mary,  your 
mother,  on  a  table  in  an  auction-room,  and  sell  her  away  from 
Thad  and  Alfy,  to  work  for  a  master  who  would  never  pay  her  any 
wages,  so  that  when  she  became  old  and  feeble  she  would  have  no 
money,  or  home,  or  friends. 

"Then  Thad  would  be  put  upon  the  table  and  sold  to  another 
master,  far  away  in  another  direction.  He  might  be  very  cruel  — 
beating  him  with  many  stripes,  forcing  him  to  labor  without  wages, 
till  he  was  a  poor  old  man.  Alfy  would  be  sold  away  also,  on  the 
auction-table  ;  perhaps  he  would  be  sold  to  toil  under  a  burning 
sun  ;  in  sugar-cane  fields,  where  in  the  course  of  six  or  seven  years 
he  would  sink  into  an  unknown  grave.  My  dear  boys,  would  this 
be  right  or  wrong  ?  " 

Thad  looked  combattive,  with  a  lowering  brow  and  hands  insen- 
sibly clenched.     Alfy's  brightness  was  overcast. 

"  How  could  it  be  right .''  "  crisply  asked  Thad. 

"What  do  y  Oil  think,  Alfy.?  "  questioned  Uncle  George.  "Would 
it  be  right  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  w^ould  be  the  worst  wrong  I  ever  knew,  and  I  should 
think  the  people  in  Connecticut  ought  not  to  allow  it,  if  they  did  as 
they  would  be  done  by  !  " 

Zaffiri  clasped  her  hands  with  delight. 

"  Ah !  Alfy,  that  is  just  the  conclusion  I  most  desired  to  show 
you.  We  have  arrived  there  without  circumlocution.  That  is  the 
God-like  voice  of  conscience,  unwarped  by  false  teachings  !  A 
most  holy  assertion,  '  The  people  of  Connecticut  ought  not  to  allow  it !  ' 
The  stealing,  carrying  away,  and  selling  your  mother  and  your- 
selves, would  be  like  slavery  in  the  South.  If  the  *  Golden  Rule ' 
requires  that  your  State  should  rescue  you  from  the  man  thieves, 
then  the  Northern  people,  following  the  same,  should  strive  to 
rescue  their  fellowmen  from  a  similar  horrible  bondage.  Do  you 
see  ? " 

Thad,  whose  natural  conservation  had  been  previously  strength- 
ened by  the  arguments  of  older  minds,  replied, — 

"  JMadame  Lambelle,  the  slaves  in  the  South  are  black  ;  they 
came  from  Africa.     We  are  white.' 


462  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  That  makes  no  difference,  my  young  friend.  God  is  no  re- 
specter of  persons,  and  you  will  grant  that  slaves  are  persons.  He 
respects  the  white  no  more  than  the  black,  for  He  made  of  one 
blood  all  the  nations  of  the  earth." 

She  grew  more  earnest. 

"Listen  further,  Thad.  The  enslaver  would  enslave  white  as 
well  as  colored,  the  Saxon,  as  well  as  the  African,  were  it  in  his 
power.  There  are  white  slaves  at  the  South,  with  fair  skins  and 
blue  eyes  ;  these  are  bought  and  sold  in  the  same  manner  as  the 
colored.  History  informs  us  that  thousands  of  the  white  race  have 
suffered  cruel  bondage  under  other  nations.  Thad  and  Alfy,  the 
next  step  for  you  to  make  towards  the  fulfillment  of  the  ^  Golden 
Rule,'  is  to  regard  all  colors  as  equal  before  the  Creator  of  the 
human  race  ;  and,  therefore,  to  hold  them  as  your  equals,  in  all  civil 
and  religious  claims," 

Filette  remarked  that  there  were  but  few  dark  men  in  this  re- 
gion ;  the  boys  had  no  acquaintance  with  them,  and  that  she  was 
not  surprised  at  the  rarity  of  a  colored  face,  after  the  shameful  cul- 
mination ot  prejudice  in  the  "  Black  Law  of  the  State,"  or  even 
before  the  Law  was  enacted,  for  the  spirit  that  indited  the  "  Black 
Law"  was  always  rife;  at  the  same  time,  deferentially  asking  par- 
don of  Zaffiri,  for  the  interruption. 

"  I  think  our  friend  will  not  consider  anything  irrelevant  which 
throws  light  upon  her  subject,"  said  Mr.  Buddington.  As  for  my- 
self. Miss  Filette,  I  should  consider  a  divergence  to  this  "  Black 
Law  "  for  a  few  moments  a  favor.     I  am  entirely  uninformed." 

"  My  dear  Hebe,  far  from  deeming  the  mention  of  the  '  Black 
Law'  an  intrusion,  I  am  under  many  obligations  for  your  assist- 
ance," responded  Zaffiri,  politely. 

"  I  had  thought  the  shameful  history  of  Prudence  Crandall's 
school,  and  its  legitimate  fruit,  should  excite  sufficient  indigna- 
tion in  New  England  to  render  the  subject  familiar,"  remarked 
Hebe. 

"  By  no  means ;  the  general  Northern  public  is  too  well  satisfied 
with  any  act  protecting  slaver}^,  to  question  its  propriety,"  said  Mr. 
Buddington. 

So  the  story  of  INIiss  Crandall's  boarding-school  of  about  twenty 
colored  ladies  and   misses  from   the  cities  of  Philadelphia,  New 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  463 

York,  Providence,  and  Boston,  was  rehearsed  ;  the  refusal  of  the 
merchants  of  Canterbury  to  sell  to  her  or  her  school  ;  the  filling  of 
her  well  with  filth ;  her  supply  of  water  and  food  by  her  father  and 
a  Quaker  friend  ;  Miss  Crandall's  imprisonment  in  the  cell  of  an 
executed  murderer  ;  the  final  attempt  to  set  her  house  on  fire,  and 
the  smashing  of  ninety  panes  of  glass  in  the  dead  hour  of  night. 

Filette  explained  the  warrant  served  upon  Miss  Ann  Eliza  Ham- 
mond, a  fine,  colored  pupil  from  Providence,  under  the  "obsolete 
vagrant  law,"  which  provided  that  the  selectmen  of  any  town  might 
warn  any  person  not  an  inhabitant  of  the  State,  to  depart  forthwith 
from  said  town,  and  might  demand  one  dollar  and  sixty-seven  cents 
for  every  week  he  or  she  remained,  after  such  warning  ;  and  in  case 
the  person  so  warned  should  not  have  departed  before  the  expira- 
tion of  ten  days  after  being  sentenced,  then  he  or  she  should  be 
whipped  on  the  naked  body  not  exceeding  ten  stripes  ;  that  Miss 
Hammond  determined  to  remain  and  suffer  the  punishment  like 
a  martyr  ;  that  her  persecutors  quailed  in  view  of  the  consequences, 
and  abandoned  the  warrant ;  that  the  enemies  of  the  school  car- 
ried their  case  to  the  Legislature,  where  the  old  '  Pauper  and 
Vagrant  Law'  was  revamped  and  regilded  with  the  name  of  the 
"Black  Law,"  accompanied  with  seven  penalties  ;  that,  after  a  per- 
secution of  eighteen  months,  the  school  was  broken  up,  and  the 
pupils  scattered  to  their  homes. 

"  What  was  the  substance  of  this  '  Black  Law,'  Miss  Filette  ? " 
asked  Mr.  Buddington. 

"  If  you  please,  I  can  repeat  the  first  section.  My  father  is  an 
abolitionist,  upon  whose  head  the  Southerners  might  set  a  price. 
He  ordered  his  children  to  com.mit  to  memory  the  '  Black  Law,' 
and  to  repeat  it  to  him  in  conjunction  with  the  Ten  Command- 
ments and  the  Golden  Rule." 

"Ah!  Hebe,  what  precious  news!"  exclaimed  Zaffiri,  her  blue 
eyes  glittering  like  sapphires.  "  Blessings  on  his  gray  hairs.  How 
much  will  the  pleasure  of  our  visit  to-morrow  be  heightened  by  this 
assurance.     I  shall  embrace  him  as  a  father." 

"  Allow  one  more  shadow  to  pass,  dear  madame,"  said  Uncle 
George  ;  "and  then,  I  suppose,  your  most  honored  guests  will  beg 
leave  to  retire,"  bowing  at  the  same  time  to  his  nephews.  "  Miss 
Snow,  we  will  hear  the  '  Black  Law '  of  Connecticut." 


464  WHITE    MAY,    AND    ELACK    JUNE. 

"  I  will  recite  the  first  section,  if  you  please. 

"  '  Be  it  enacted  by  the  Senate  and  House  of  Representatives,  in 
General  Assembly  convened,  that  no  person  shall  set  up  or  estab- 
lish in  this  State,  any  school,  academy,  or  literary  institution^  for 
the  instruction  or  education  of  colored  persons  who  are  not  inhabi- 
tants of  this  State  ;  nor  instruct,  nor  teach,  in  any  school  or  other 
literary  institution  whatsoever,  in  this  State;  nor  harbor,  or  board 
for  the  purpose  of  attending,  or  being  taught,  or  instructed  in  any 
such  school,  academy,  or  literary  institution,  any  colored  person 
who  is  not  an  inhabitant  of  any  tov«'n  in  this  State,  without  the  con- 
sent in  writing  first  obtained  of  a  majority  of  the  civil  authority, 
and  also  of  the  selectmen  of  the  town  in  which  such  school, 
academy,  or  literary  institution  is  situated,"  etc. 

"  Infamous  1  "  cried  Zaffiri.     "  Is  it  not,  Mary  ?  " 

"  Judged  by  the  law  of  Christ,  it  is,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  but  I  find 
it  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  laws  of  oppression.  You  observed, 
also,  that  the  two  stripes  on  the  naked  body  of  ]Mr.  Hammond,  was 
but  the  flourish  of  the  slave  whip." 

The  party  took  up  the  discussion  of  Miss  Crandall's  persecutions. 
Even  Thad  and  Alfy  entered  the  lists  in  behalf  of  both  teacher  and 
pupils.  Thad"s  conservatism  thawed  into  a  generous  indignation, 
strengthened  by  a  warm  denunciation  of  the  "  Black  Law,"  and  its 
instigators.  Evidently  the  object  of  the  reception  had  been  accom- 
plished ;  a  deep  impression  had  been  made  on  the  inquisitive  minds 
of  the  two  boys,  which  would  deepen  in  coming  years.  When 
each  received  a  "good  night"  kiss  from  Zafflri,  she  said, — 

"  I  reckon  among  my  friends,  those  who  hold  correct  views  upon 
this  great  sin  of  slavery.  I  hope  to  count  you  among  those  friends. 
Study  well  upon  the  subjects  of  our  conversation,  and  in  every 
year  of  your  lives  let  the  hatred  of  human  bondage  grow  stronger." 

When  the  others  were  left  by  themselves,  Madame  Lambelle 
broke  the  silence. 

"  Oh  !  I  hope  these  dear  boys  will  grow  to  manhood,  with  an 
enlightened  understanding  of  the  evils  of  our  land,  and  of  the  posi- 
tion of  the  nation,  and  of  the  individual  requirements  of  its  citi- 


zens." 


"  Madame   Lambelle,"   replied  Mr.   Buddington,   "  I   have    seen 
many  things  in  a  strange  light  this  evening.     In  behalf  of  so  lovely 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  465 

a  herald  as  yourself,  of  this  new  truth,  I  will  pledge  my  best  en- 
deavors to  guide  their  young  feet  into  the  paths  you  desire.  It 
may,  at  first,  be  an  awkward  office  ;  but  here,  I  pledge  my 
endeavors.  Count  me  among  your  friends,  madame.  Hence- 
forth, whatever  that  word  may  signify,  I  am  an  abolitionist^ 

As  a  delicate  vase  glows  from  flames  within,  so  the  eyes  and 
features  of  the  beautiful  priestess  of  Freedom  lighted  by  the 
sudden  joy.  She  arose,  approached  him,  radiant  with  smiles,  say- 
ing,— 

"  I  give  you  my  hand." 

Meeting  her  half  way,  and  taking  the  hand  reverentially,  he 
solemnly  said, — 

"  Over  the  new-made  grave  of  my  brother  I " 

"  Filette  ! "  cried  the  husky  voice  of  Mary,  "  meet  me  at  the 
same  altar." 

They  met  on  either  side  of  George  and  Madame  Lambelle  — 
joined  hands  over  theirs  ;  Mar}^  slowly  and  solemnly  repeating,—- 

"  Over  the  grave  of  my  murdered  husband^  I  become  an  aboli- 
tionist." 

The  glory  died  out  of  Zaffiri's  face.  In  the  character  of  a 
prophetess,  she  asked, — 

"  My  dear  friends,  with  this  oath,  can  you  accept  its  inseparable 
consequences  ?  Will  you  not  shrink  from  the  chrism  of  persecu- 
tion, ostracism,  and  perhaps  death  ?  " 

"  We  accept  all,"  firmly  responded  Mr.  Buddington. 

"All,"  clearly  responded  the  white,  set  lips  of  Mary." 

"  Then  we  are  one  in  the  holy  love  and  support  of  freedom  — 
true  liberty.  We  may  rest  upon  our  pillows  to-night,  at  peace  with 
God,  conscience,  and  the  world." 

During  the  remainder  of  Zaffiri's  visit,  a  sweeter  communion  than 
ever  marked  the  intercourse  of  the  family.  Aims  and  affections 
were  assimilated.  Greater  than  the  dread  of  her  arrival,  was  the 
regret  at  her  approaching  departure.  Early  the  next  morning 
Uncle  George  drove  up  to  the  door  a"  fiery  span  of  dappled  grays, 
cinctured  with  shining  bells.  They  drew  the  long,  market  sleigh 
of  a  neighbor,  carpeted  and  covered  with  fragrant  hay,  blankets 
and  robes.     Thad   donned   a  satisfied  business   air;  carrying  out 


466  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

hot  bricks — locking  doors  —  tucking  in  the  ladies, —  and  finally 
seating  himself  with  Uncle  George  on  the  driver's  seat.  Alfy 
nestled  down  by  the  beautiful  madame,  as  he  called  her. 

"  Two  pairs  of  blue  eyes  on  one  seat,"  as  Filette  said. 

Fairly  launched  on  the  way,  Thad  braced  his  feet  and  took  the 
lines. 

"Nothing  conservative  about  this,  ladies,"  remarked  Uncle 
George. 

"  I  understand,"  replied  Filette  ;   "  the  pretty  creatures  fly." 

This  visit  at  Filette's  home  proved  the  climax  of  enjoyment. 
The  hale  old  patriarch  and  his  wife  received  them  with  open  arms, 
to  blazing  hearths  and  bounteous  tables.  The  elevated  tone  of 
conversation  was  a  comfort  to  grief,  strength  to  weakness,  and  a 
guide  to  doubt.  Sturdy  justice,  and  gentle  humanity  illuminated 
every  sentence. 

"Ah!  Mary,"  whispered  Madame  Lambelle,  " these  words  are 
apples  of  gold  in  pictures  of  silver.     They  are  a  pure  delight." 

A  mystery  dropped  into  the  afternoon.  Neither  Mr.  Snow  nor 
George  Buddington  were  seen  till  the  tea  hour  ;  the  boys  were  at  a 
neighbor's  ;  a  dreamy,  restful  quiet  pervaded  the  coterie  of  ladies. 
Filette's  self-possession  lost  itself  in  unusual  abstraction,  or  strange 
gayety.  Mrs.  Snow  took  madame  to  her  motherly  heart,  chatting 
pleasantly  of  farm  affairs,  and  learning  from  her  guest  much  con- 
cerning the  friends  of  liberty  in  New  York.  Tea  hour  brought 
back  the  deep,  cheery,  bass  voice  of  Mr.  Snow,  and  the  liquid, 
soulful  eyes  of  George,  resting  often  upon  the  flitting  blushes  of 
Filette. 

At  the  parting,  the  gray-haired  father  said  to  madame, — 

"  Come,  my  daughter,  to  our  house  summer  or  winter,  whenever 
the  city  and  its  fashions  weary.  Come  to  the  mountains  and 
meadows  for  rest.  Come  and  drink  milk,  eat  honey,  and  tell  us  of 
the  world's  struggle  for  freedom." 

At  home  again,  the  guest  drew  Filette  to  her  boudoir  ;  long  after 
the  stillness  of  night  settled  upon  the  house,  they  held  happy  con- 
verse. 

"  Hebe,  *'  said  the  lady,  "will  you  not  confide  to  me  an  explana- 
tion of  the  mysterious  absence  at  your  father's  this  afternoon  ?  We 
have  shared  the  grief  of  this  abode  together;  shall   we   not  share 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  467 

its  joy  ?  Shall  I  guess  who  loves  you  ?  Ah  !  my  pretty  Hebe  !  do 
not  veil  those  tell-tale  eyes.  Let  me  see  their  soft  love-light,  the 
most  holy  and  beautiful  gift  of  Heaven  to  earth." 

"  Suppose,  dear  madame,  that  the  preliminaries  of  my  marriage 
were  settled  this  afternoon  ?  "  modestly  replied  Filette,  blushing 
deeply, 

"Ah!  Hebe,  I  have  observed  many  tokens  of  this,  since  my 
arrival.  I  have  seen  that  George  was  not  lonely  in  the  kitchen, 
when  left  with  you.  I  have  seen  his  gaze  wandering  after  you.  I 
have  seen  his  ready  hands  lightening  your  burdens.  I  have  heard 
the  tenderness  in  his  voice,  when  addressing  you,  dear  girl,  and  I 
give  you  my  happiest  congratulations ;  if,  Hebe,  if  your  own  heart 
has  found  rest  in  his  love.  Tell  me,  is  George  Buddington  the  one 
idol  to  whom  your  soul  clings  without  reservation  ?  " 

"  He  is,  dear  lady.  George  Buddington  is  my  first  and  only 
choice.  For  him  I  can  endure  all  that  life  may  have,  of  trials  or 
losses." 

"  It  is  well,  Hebe  ;  it  is  well !  "  She  held  the  shy  girl  to  her 
heart,  and  left  kisses  on  her  burning  cheeks.  "  Will  you  not  say 
'  Come,'  to  me  on  the  day  of  your  wedding  ?  " 

"  I  had  thought  that  a  lady  who  has  traveled  the  world  over, 
would  not  care  to  witness  the  humble  marriage  of  a  country  farmer's 
daughter  j  yet,  nothing  could  heighten  my  pleasure  at  that  event, 
more  than  the  honor  of  your  presence." 

"  Fie !  Hebe.  Flattery  may  wound  your  friend.  Remember 
that  the  superficial  accomplishments  of  society  are  trivial,  compared 
with  inherent  worth.  Let  us  regard  each  other  as  sisters,  as  we 
really  are,  in  all  that  reason,  religion,  and  humanity  require.  Invite 
Zaffiri,  and  thus  honor  her." 

"  One  of  the  graces  for  a  country  lassie's  wedding !  "  laughed 
Filette. 

"  Hush,  Hebe !  no  more  humility  !  inform  me  when  my  husband 
and  myself  shall  make  the  journey." 

"  Some  time  the  first  of  June  ;  George  says  in  the  time  of  apple 
blossoms." 


468  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  two-story  farmhouse  of  Mr.  Snow,  crowned  the  summit 
of  a  ridge,  whose  sloping  sides  were  clothed  in  spring  ver- 
dure. 

Its  red  paint  and  white  trimmings  made  a  cheerful  landmark  on 
the  traveled  roads  for  a  long  distance.  An  apple  orchard,  in  full 
bloom,  stretched  away  to  the  south  of  it.  On  this  day,  this  sunny 
June  day,  the  old  trees  heaped  with  flowery  promise,  seemed  a 
great  attraction,  if  one  could  judge  by  the  constant  gliding  to  and 
fro  of  the  throng  of  new  figures  and  faces  suddenly  peopling  the 
apartments. 

On  the  evening  previous,  the  neighbors  had  observed  lights  in 
every  room ;  in  the  front  chamber,  in  the  parlor,  in  the  sitting- 
room,  and  in  the  spare  bed-room  below ;  the  small-paned  windows 
rejoiced  in  an  illumination.  The  curtains  were  raised  this  morn- 
ing, and  the  new  faces  took  observations  of  clouds  and  sky. 

The  deep,  cheery  voice  of  Mr.  Snow,  the  father,  was  heard,  now 
at  the  barn,  now  in  the  kitchen,  and  down  in  the  orchard.  The 
mother,  in  lace  cap  and  white  ribbons,  moved  complacently  about 
the  lower  rooms,  with  Mary  Buddington  in  mourning  weeds. 

The  daughter  was  in  her  own  chamber.  Here,  as  elsewhere, 
prevailed  the  strictest  order.  Upon  the  high  bed  was  spread  a 
white  dress  of  jaconet  muslin,  a  white  lustring  sash,  a  pair  of  white 
kid  mitts  or  gloves  reaching  to  the  elbow,  a  pair  of  white  kid  slip- 
pers, and  a  bridal  veil. 

A  light  knock  at  the  door  was  followed  by  a  sweet  voice, — 

"  Are  you  ready  for  me  now,  pretty  Hebe  } " 

•'  Always  ready  for  jou,  Madame  Lambelle  ;  will  you  enter  my 
plain,  little  room  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure ;  but  I  do  not  like  the  style  of  invitation."  Holding 
Filette  in  her  arms  and  imprinting  a  kiss' upon  each  cheek,  she 
insisted  upon  having  no  more  selfabasement,  henceforth  and  for- 
ever. "  Hebe,  this  is  not  penance  day.  Do  you  not  know  that  I 
love  you  ?   that  I  love  the  country,  and  especially  these  nests  of 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE..  469 

comfort,  the  red,  brown,  or  white  farm-houses?  One  more  request. 
Call  me  no  longer  'Madame  Lambelle."  Let  me  be  '  Zafhri,"  as  at 
home  with  my  husband  and  my  little  maid.  Ah  !  yes,  I  under- 
stand, Hebe  will  confer  favors  to-day. 

"  Now,  let  us  see,"  she  continued,  "  all  is  in  readiness  but  the 
flowers  ;  they  will  be  brought  in  soon  fresh  from  the  trees.  How 
much  I  like  the  idea  of  these  lovely  apple-blossoms  !  " 

"  George  says  he  should  be  sorry  to  see  me  wear  orange  blos- 
soms ;  their  whiteness  seems  to  him  like  the  pallor  of  consterna- 
tion at  Southern  crimes." 

"  I,  too,  dislike  orange  flowers.  Your  affianced  is  growing 
strong  in  sentiments  of  Justice.  Mr.  Lambelle  already  has  a  great 
affection  for  him.  We  have  not  too  much  time,  Hebe.  It  is  now 
ten,"  holding  the  watch  in  her  hand.  The  ceremony  takes  place 
at  eleven.  My  husband  is  assisting  the  groom.  Allow  me  to  dress 
the  bride." 

Another  knock  at  the  door  and  Cossetina  entered  breathless, 
holding  forth  her  apron  full  of  orchard  buds  and  blossoms.  She 
began  to  chatter  Italian  as  if  she  were  alone  with  her  mistress, — 

"  Ah  !  Zaffiri,  Guardate  qiiei  superbe  d'lm  colo7'c  cosi  fresco  e  splcndido 
vivo  !  " 

^^  Bei  fiori,^^  ejaculated  the  lady;  observing  the  confusion  of 
Cossetina's  hair  and  torn  dress,  she  asked  hastily, — 

"  Ch^e  acca  duto?     Che  cosa  ha  .?  " 

"  Sono  caduto  dalla  cima  deWal  berro  al  basso  e  ?ton  mi  son  fatto 
molto  ?nale/"  answered  the  maid.  ^^  LWio  scappata  con  una  graffia- 
tura. 

''Me  ne  rificresce"  responded  Zaffiri,  with  much  sympathy. 
"  Segga  accante  a  me  .^ " 

'^  Farliame  Inglese,  Cossetina." 

'*  Par  la  el  la  Inglese  ?  " 

"  Si  J  par  la  Inglese.''^ 

When  Filette  stood  dressed  in  her  chamber  for  the  arrangement 
of  the  flowers  and  veil,  a  third  knock  brought  a  basket  filled  with 
apple  blossoms.  She  received  them  with  the  compliments  of  Mr. 
Buddington  and  a  respectful  bow  from  the  bearer. 

"  Return  my  thanks,  Issy,"  requested  Filette,  blushing,  '*  and  say 
they  are  beautiful !  " 


470  WHITE    MAY,    AND    ELACK   JUNE. 

"A  new  face,"  said  Zaffiri,  *' colored  servants?" 

"By  no  means ;  Issy  is  a  Charlestonian  ;  was  freed  by  his  father  ; 
will  reside  with  us  at  our  house  in  Cloudspire.  I  am  to  become 
his  teacher.     He  was  not  suited  at  his  former  place." 

"  I  have  not  seen  him  since  my  arrival." 

"No!  he  came  this  morning  with  his  guardian.  Friend  Sterling- 
worth." 

"  Cossetina,  give  me  a  blossom  with  buds." 

"  Vuoi  tu  queir  uno'  ?  "  holding  up  a  lovely  bunch. 

" Faria  Liglese  7nia  cara ;  that  cluster  is  exquisite.  See,  some 
petals  on  the  floor  are  like  delicate,  roseate  sea  shells." 

Meantime  a  new  carpet  destined  for  Cloudspire  was  unrolled 
and  spread  under  the  branches  of  a  broad-spreading  apple-tree  in 
the  orchard,  blushed  with  bloom.  One  by  one,  and  two  by  two, 
the  party  at  the  house  strolled  down  on  the  greensward,  awaiting 
George  Buddington  and  his  bride.  There  Mary  and  her  sons, 
Friend  Sterlingworth  and  Fanny,  Richard  Beame,  Issy  Paisley, 
Simon  Link,  Deacon  Brown  and  wife.  Last  of  all,  Mr.  Lambelle, 
his  elegant  lady,  and  Cossetina. 

The  lively  buzz  of  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  appear- 
ance of  George  Buddington  and  Filette. 

"  How  beautiful !  "  rose  to  every  lip. 

"  I  never  saw  a  bride  in  apple  blossoms,  before." 

"  What  a  superb  couple  !  "  said  Mr.  Lambelle  to  Zaffiri. 

They  stepped  upon  the  carpet  into  the  mottled  shade  which 
folded  both  in  leafy  embrace. 

After  the  ceremony,  in  "  Gods  temple,*'  as  the  clergyman  styled 
the  orchard,  in  his  prayer,  and  after  tendering  congratulations, 
George  Buddington  and  wife  led  the  party  up  through  sunlight  and 
fragrant  shade  to  the  bountiful  collation  spread  in  the  house  which 
awaits  a  new  New  England  marriage.  Filette  was  to  be  taken  to 
her  home  in  Cloudspire  that  day.  The  distance  was  long,  and  an 
early  hour  was  appointed  for  the  departure,  convoyed  by  their 
friends  from  that  town.  Simon  Link  was  master  of  ceromonies 
at  the  stables.  His  gentlemanly  dress  and  manner  was  so  marked 
that  Richard  aud  Fanny  scarcely  recognized  their  friend,  waiting 
in  the  snow  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  after  the  church  mob  at  the 
Cloudspire  revival. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  47 1 

Issy  voluntarily  took  the  part  of  footman.     He  said, — 

"  I  shall  do  this  with  pleasure,  for  m^  friends,  which  I  was  once 
compelled  to  do  for  a  master." 

"  First  came  to  the  door  George  Buddington's  curvetting  black 
span  and  handsome  carriage.  After  Issay's  attentions,  Zaffiri  pro- 
piated  future  fates,  by  throwing  after  them  her  own  slipper.  Fol- 
lowing them,  Friend  Sterlingworth  and  Fanny ;  next,  Richard  and 
Young  Paisley.  Last  went  Simon  Link  and  Thad,  carrying  the 
bride's  loaf  and  other  wedding  cheer.  For  the  first  time  in  many 
years  Mr.  Link  had  a  driver.  Thad's  chief  enjoyment  of  the  day's 
festivhies  was  holding  the  lines  for  a  straight  twenty-five  miles 
It  was  the  nearest  approximation  to  his  cherished  "  stage-driving," 
in  his  experience. 

Mary  remained  a  few  days  with  Mrs.  Snow,  and  then  left  for- 
ever the  scenes  of  her  married  happiness,  taking  with  her  Alfy  and 
the  tenderly  cherished  "  old  Ned,"  which  in  his  young  days  had 
brought  her  there,  a  gay  and  loving  bride. 

Filette  found,  on  arriving  at  her  new  abode,  grassy  lawns  dotted 
with  clumps  of  evergreen,  terraces,  shrubbery  in  bloom,  and  a 
tastefully  arranged  flower-garden.  The  house  was  spacious  and  in- 
viting, carpeted  throughout,  and  newly  furnished  in  handsome 
modern  style.  Her  own  room  was  a  bower  of  beauty  and  comfort, 
upholstered  with  warm  colors,  velvet  and  lace.  From  the  windows, 
a  softened  line  of  blue  mountains  met  the  sky ;  beyond,  a  fore- 
ground of  intervale  and  patches  of  forest. 

In  the  kitchen,  black  Hester  and  Roland  welcomed  the  new  mis- 
tress to  shining  neatness  and  savory  odors.  The  dining-room  table, 
set  with  a  sumptuous  repast,  awaited  the  party.  A  bell  in  the 
hands  of  Roland  soon  summoned  them  to  its  delicacies. 

With  affectionate  pride,  George  Buddington  led  his  blushing  wife 
to  the  head  of  his  hitherto  lonely  table.  Standing  by  his  side  till 
the  guests  were  seated,  he  withdrew  a  cover  from  the  tea  tray  and 
its  contents.  To  her  surprise,  a  glitter  of  polished  silver  revealed 
a  costly  set  of  tea  and  coffee  service,  the  like  of  which  she  had 
never  in  her  simple  country  life  contemplated. 

"  Read,  Filette,"  said  George  ;  "  and  next  to  your  joy  in  the  pos- 
session of  this  beautiful  gift,  will  be  mine  to  drink  the  beverages 
poured  by  your  hands." 


472  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Upon  every  piece  of  service  she  read  the  inscription, — 

''  Zqffiri.to  Heber 

Seeing  her  hesitation,  her  husband,  who  had  taken  his  place  at 
the  opposite  end  of  the  long  table,  addressed  her, — 

"  Your  silence  is  impressive,  my  charming  wife  ;  more  eloquent 
than  words.     Let  us  attend  to  our  evening's  hospitalities." 

A  few  days  after,  while  both  walked  in  the  garden  during  the 
June  twilight,  Filette  said  to  George, — 

"  Our  home  far  exceeds  my  expectations.  I  shall  be  pleased  to 
invite  Zaffiri  under  its  ample  roof." 

"  I  have  a  '  Zaffiri '  sheltered  by  its  roof  ;  or  I  shall  have,  when 
you,  my  Hebe,  go  in  with  me  from  this  chilly  night  air.  Come  in  ; 
let  us  confer  upon  the  future." 

He  drew  her  arm  within  his,  and  both  repaired  to  the  lighted 
sitting-room.     Mary  sat  quietly  reading. 

"  I  have  been  reflecting,  to-day,  upon  the  vows  each  took  upon 
us,  in  Mary's  parlor,  with  herself  and  Madame  Lambelle.  You 
know,  I  then  took  upon  myself  the  character  of  an  abolitionist, 
whatever  that  term  may  imply  ;  and  you  know,  my  dear  Filette, 
that  I  was  compelled  to  this  change  of  sentiment,  and  it  was  a 
total  reversion  of  all  I  held  right,  before  ;  I  say,  I  was  compelled 
to  this  change  by  the  cold-blooded  murder  of  my  innocent  brother, 
James.  You  know,  also,  that  our  oath  was  taken,  in  imagination, 
over  his  grave. 

"  My  first  step  in  compliance  with  that  vow,  was  to  take  Ishmael 
Paisley  into  our  family;  not  as  a  servant,  but  to  develop  his  man- 
hood, and  to  share  with  him  our  privileges,  pleasures  and  pursuits. 
This  I  shall  do,  at  any  cost.  The  question  now  is,  in  what  other 
manner,  and  when,  shall  I  manifest  fidelity  to  principle  .''  And  yet, 
I  hardly  know  what  principles  are  involved  in  this  moral  metamor- 
phosis! I  have  been  a  thoughtless,  dogmatic  adherent  of  Party, 
Church  and  State,  caiing  not  to  examine  particularly  the  grounds 
of  my  faith.  Richard  Beame  advises  me  to  subscribe  for  the  Lib- 
erator—  Garrison's  paper.  What  is  it  Filette;  have  you  ever 
seen  it  ? " 

"Yes,  indeed!  It  is  a  two-edged  sword  of  Freedom!  It  cuts 
to  the  right  and  left,  sparing  not.  Father  says  there  are  no  beams 
in  Garrison's  eyes,  that  he  cannot  discern  the  mote  in  others.     But, 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  473 

my  dear  George,  do  you  know  that  the  simple  act  of  taking  that 
paper  weekly  from  this  office  will  subject  you  to  revengeful,  crucial 
persecution  !  " 

"  I  am  surprised,  Filette  !  If  one  is  a  free  moral  agent,  can  he 
not  choose  what  he  reads  ?  I  know  the  South  would  muzzle  our 
mouths,  but  I  trust  they  will  not  attempt  to  bandage  our  eyes, 
also." 

"You  mistake,  George  \  Northern  infatuation  attempts  to  band- 
age the  eyes  of  those  who  would  read  Garrison's  Liberator.  And 
let  me  suggest,  that  here  in  Cloudspire,  we  may  find  too  much 
opportunity  to  manifest  fidelity  to  principle." 

"  I  have  courage,  Filette.  Certain  memories  nerve  my  purpose. 
To-night  I  shall  write  to  Boston  for  the  Liberator,  and  set  that 
electrical  battery  at  work  in  our  family." 

"Mary,"  said  Tvlr.  Buddington,  "  Filette  and  I  have  concluded  to 
take  our  whole  family  to  church,  including  Paisley,  Hester  and 
Roland.  There  are  eight  of  us,  and  those  square  pews,  with  seats 
all  round,  will  accommodate  all." 

"  That  is  a  just  conclusion,  George,"  replied  his  wife.  " '  By 
their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them  '  is  the  voice  of  the  Scriptures,  and 
the  act  will  only  be  an  exact  result  of  our  sentiments.  However, 
we  must  expect  a  conflict  between  the  '  negro  pew '  under  the  stairs, 
and  ours,  in  the  centre  of  the  church." 

"  Perhaps,"  rephed  her  husband  ;  "  we  shall  see." 

During  the  week,  Issy,  Hester  and  Roland  were  instructed  con- 
cerning the  programme  for  the  Sabbath  worship.  Issy  dropped 
his  eyes  to  the  floor  and  replied  modestly, — 

"  I  am  accustomed  to  the  gallery,  madam." 

Filettte  replied, — 

"  Issy,  I  cannot  appear  before  God,  the  loving  Father  of  us  all, 
without  carrying  with  us  the  one  shorn  lamb  of  our  flock.  You 
must  sit  in  our  pew  with  us.  You  must  claim  the  manhood  that 
the  Scriptures  promise  in  these  words,  '  God  is  no  respecter  ot 
persons.'" 

Issy  bowed,  and  hesitatingly  assented. 

Hester  received  the  information  with  pleasant,  but  derisive 
laughter. 

"  Me   sit  in  your  pew,  Mrs.    Buddington  !     Me  !  that   has   been 


474  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK  JUNE. 

scoffed  at,  on  account  of  my  color  and  poverty,  ever  since  I  had  a 
memory  !  I  dearly  love  to  please  you  in  everything  possible,  but 
in  this  arrangement  let  me  be  excused." 

"  No,  Hester,  it  is  an  obligation  you  owe  to  yourself,  to  do  this 
very  thing.  You  really  do  believe,  way  down  in  your  heart,  your 
own  equality  with  the  rest  of  mankind.  Then  it  is  binding  upon 
you  to  endeavor  to  throw  off  this  yoke  of  oppression,  and  to  take 
your  seat  with  us  in  church,  as  you  now  have  an  opportunity." 

"  I  love  you  too  well,  Mrs.  Buddington,  to  do  so.  I  don't  wish 
to  bring  upon  your  happy  married  life  a  shade  of  a  shadow.  If  I 
go  and  sit  in  your  pew,  evil  reports  will  be  trumped  up  about  your 
husband.  If  I  contradict  these  reports,  my  word  will  go  for  noth- 
ing ;  for  outside  of  two  houses  in  this  town, —  your  house  and  the 
doctor's  —  I  am  counted  a  liar  and  a  thief !  " 

"  Hester,  are  you  not  mistaken  in  respect  to  my  husband  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least ;  you  see,  I've  had  experience.  I've  always 
found  that  those  who  looked  after  my  welfare  and  my  boy's,  and 
who  treat  me  with  the  most  respect,  are  the  most  talked  about ; 
while  the  church-members  and  other  men,  who  pretend  to  hate  us 
that  are  colored,  insult  me  everywhere  ;  and  yet  they  are  called  '  all 
right.'  " 

Hester  looked  at  her  baking,  put  some  wood  in  the  stove,  and 
set  a  chair  for  Filette,  saying, — 

"  As  we  are  all  alone  in  this  kitchen,  I  will  explain.  The  last 
time  I  went  to  meeting  in  the  church,  I  made  a  vow  that  I  would 
never  go  again.  Have  you  ever  heard  of  William  Steele,  that 
come  on  here  from  the  South,  and  married  the  doctor's  daughter  ? " 

"  I  have  heard  George  speak  of  him." 

Here  Hester  rang  out  another  laugh  of  derision,  and  continued. 

"  Well,  I  hiew  that  man,  as  pious  as  he  was,  better  than  all 
Cloudspire  knew  him.  That  was  the  time  of  the  great  revival ; 
that  was  the  time  Mr.  Buddington  was  converted.  I  was  working 
at  the  doctor's.  This  Steele  was  courting  the  doctor's  daughter. 
The  doctor  sent  me  into  his  office  to  see  to  the  fire  and  brush  up 
the  stove  hearth.  William  Steele  was  there,  but  I  went  on  with  my 
work.  Of  a  sudden,  he  had  his  arm  around  my  waist  and  kissed 
me  ;  at  the  same  time  he  slipped  a  silver  half-dollar  in  my  hand.  I 
suppose  I  did  wrong,  but  I  took  it  and  went  out.     I  wanted  to  buy 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  475 

me  a  new,  strong  dress.  All  my  clothes  were  second-handed,  that  I 
had  taken  for  my  low  wages,  where  I  could  get  work  ;  then  I  had  to 
take  a  great  many  old  clothes  for  Roland.  Roland's  father  is  a 
man  in  this  town.  I  was  young  and  foolish  once,  but  am  wiser, 
now.  His  father  never  gave  me  a  cent  to  support  him  ;  and  I  was 
so  poor,  and  needed  a  strong  dress  so  much,  I  took  the  fifty  cents 
and  put  it  in  my  pocket,  so  that  with  the  silver  quarter  he  gave 
Roland  for  waiting  on  him  at  table,  I  could  buy  it,  afterwards.  I 
went  to  meeting,  and  there  stood  William  Steele  telling  the  people 
that  scientific  men  said  negroes  were  allied  to  the  brutes ;  that  was 
the  general  opinion,  except  by  a  few  fanatics,  who  were  making  the 
vain  attempt  to  bring  these  degraded  creatures  to  a  level  with 
themselves.  Mrs.  Buddington,  all  that  church  was  listening  as 
solemn  as  if  it  was  a  funeral !  I  looked  at  the  religious  scowl  on  his 
face,  and  thought  how  his  two  eyes  shone,  when  he  kissed  my 
cheeks  and  forehead,  and  said,  'Take  it  Hester.  One  touch  of 
your  velvety  face,,  and  a  look  into  your  soft  eyes,  is  worth  double 
the  money  ! ' 

"  I  forgot  I  was  in  the  negro  pew  in  church,  and  laughed  out,  at 
his  deceitfulness,  either  in  calling  me  a  brute,  or  kissing  me. 
When  the  tithing-man  came  to  send  me  out  of  church,  I  let  that 
horrid  silver  fifty-cent  piece  fall  on  the  floor  with  my  pocket  hand- 
kerchief. Everybody  heard  it  —  everybody  afterwards  called  me 
a  thief ;  for  nobody  paid  me  in  silver  money.  Since  then,  I  and 
Roland  have  half  starved  for  want  of  a  place  to  work ;  but  I  never 
told,  for  the  sake  of  Lucy  Clarendon.  I  loved  that  girl,  and  I 
thought  her  lot  was  hard  enough,  to  find  out  Bill  Steele  herself 
without  my  help. 

"  Since  I  came  to  live  with  you,  I  lack  neither  bread  nor  wages ; 
and  do  you  see,  Mrs.  Buddington,  that  I  do  not  like  to  bring 
trouble  to  this  house,  and  wa7it  to  myself  and  Roland,  by  going  to 
church  and  sitting  in  your  pew  ?  " 

"  But,  Hester,  we  should  do  right,  if  others  do  wrong.  It  is 
right  for  you  to  listen  to  the  gospel  of  Christ.  It  is  right  to  as- 
sume to  ourselves,  all  the  rights  of  a  common  humanity.  I  have 
a  respect  for  your  scruples,  but  I  still  persuade  you  to  go  with  us. 
Think  of  it,  Hester,  and  dare  to  assert  your  right  for  Roland's 
sake,  as  well  as  your  own.     Teach  him  to  respect  himself." 


476  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

On  the  following  Sunday,  when  the  last  notes  of  the  church  bell 
pealed  out  upon  the  sunny  air,  there  came  up  among  the  loiterers 
about  the  old  green  door  George  Buddington's  carriage  and  span, 
followed  by  a  bright  wagon  and  a  spanking  bay.  These  two  vehi- 
cles contained  all  the  members  of  his  family.  Hats  were  raised  to 
his  wealth  and  liberal  support  of  the  church.  Some  admired  his 
bride,  others  his  horses,  and  others  reflected  that  God  would  be  well 
pleased  to  see  the  negro  pew  well  filled. 

George  Buddington's  pew  was  more  richly  furnished  than  any 
other  —  the  floor  was  carpeted;  the  scarlet  cushioned  seats  were 
broken  at  intervals  with  restful  supports  for  the  arm.  Into  this 
the  whole  family  was  led,  Issy  being  seated  next  to  Filette,  with 
Mary  on  his  left.  Roland's  dancing  eyes  shone  between  Thad  and 
Alfy.     Hester  sat  at  the  left  of  Mary. 

Soon  the  heavenly  peace  of  the  sanctuary  became  ruffled. 
Many  a  devout  prayer,  destined  for  the  blue  vaults  above,  fell  back 
to  earth  on  broken  wings.  Much  Christian  serenity  changed  to 
wrathful  agitation.  Boasted  brotherly  love  suddenly  darkened 
into  vindictive  hate.  Many  a  tired  man  and  woman  missed  their 
Sunday  morning  slumber,  and  the  voice  of  the  preacher  fell  upon 
heedless  ears. 

At  noon,  Mr.  Buddington  received  several  admonitions  from  the 
church,  as  to  the  impropriety  of  his  course,  but  the  afternoon  audi- 
ence saw  the  sight  repeated. 

Before  the  close  of  the  week,  a  committee  of  remonstrance  called 
upon  the  offender,  earnestly  requesting  him  to  abandon  the  step  he 
had  taken.     A  gentle  firmness  warded  off  every  appeal. 

"  Gentlemen,  he  said,  "  I  must  obey  the  dictates  of  my  con- 
science. My  convictions  are  clear  in  this  matter.  If  Paisley,  Hes- 
ter and  Roland,  must  leave  my  pew,  I  shall  be  forced  to  leave  also. 
I  have  taken  up  the  cause  of  the  oppressed,  and  if  I  connot  main- 
tain that  cause  in  the  church,  I  must  maintain  it  out  of  the 
church." 

"  But,  this  sitting  together  in  the  sa77ie  pew  savors  of  amalgama- 
tion^ and  this  is  the  offence  against  which  our  Southern  bretheren 
vehemently  complain.  Amalgamation  is  the  crime  so  distasteful  to 
them.  They  accuse  us  of  desiring  the  opportunity  for  that  sin. 
At  the  same  time,  we  are  commanded  in  the  Scriptures,  to  '  avoid 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  477 

the  appearance  of  evil.'  This  is  accomplished  by  openly  sepa- 
rating ourselves  from  the  degraded  race  —  and  by  keeping  the 
negro  in  his  proper  place,  which  is  not  on  an  equality  with  white 
persons." 

Deacon  Steele  was  one  of  the  committee.  He  had  been  down 
to  Alderbank  tavern  during  the  morning,  and  now  directed  his 
purple  nose  and  winking  gaze  to  the  demolition  of  Mr.  Budding- 
ton's  fanaticism. 

"My  brother  William,"  he  said,  with  some  bombast,  "  instructed 
me  in  my  duty  to  the  black  race,  when  he  was  on  from  Carolina  at 
the  time  of  our  great  revival.  He  said  it  was  imperative  that  we 
should  treat  them  with  the  same  kindness  that  we  manifest  to  our 
animals  j  that  the  cicrse  is  on  them  j  that  they  are,  by  nature, 
nought  but  '  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water.'  He  instructed 
us,  also,  that  we  were  making  too  much  of  Hen  Hughes,  that 
worked  for  us  ;  you  knew  him,  Buddington.  So  I  lowered  Hen's 
wages,  and  fed  him  plainer  food.  William  said  the  Southerners 
insist  that  amalgamation  is  at  the  bottom  of  all  this  disturbance  on 
the  nigger  question.  Now,  you  see,  Buddington,"  renewing  his 
sleepy  gaze  and  bracing  himself  by  throwing  one  dogmatical  leg 
over  the  other,  "  we  have  one  Bible,  one  Constitution,  one  God  ; 
that  is,  the  South  and  the  North,  alike.  We  of  the  North  ought  to 
strive  for  peace  with  the  South.  They  are  our  brethren.  They 
detest  such  wicked  indulgence  and  proximity  to  a  slavish  race,  as 
was  publicly  seen  in  your  pew  a'  Sunday.  Let  the  niggers  go  into 
their  own  pew,  under  the  stairs.  Don't,  I  beg  of  you,  blot  the  fair 
character  of  your  young  and  pretty  wife,  by  allowing  that  young 
mulatto  to  sit  by  her  side  in  the  meeting-house.  Since  you  was 
converted,  you've  been  a  powerful  auxilum  in  the  church.  Let  us 
persuade  you  to  stand  on  the  Lord's  side,  and  to  do  no  more  the 
works  of  darkness." 

The  deacon  actually  shed  a  few  drivelling  tears. 

"  I  appeal  to  you,  as  to  a  brother,  Buddington.  What  do  you 
say  ? " 

"  I  have  much  to  say,"  replied  Squire  Buddington  ;  "  but,  per- 
haps, it  would  be  useless.  How^ever,  there  are  two  points  I  intend 
to  make.  Young  Paisley  contradicts  in  his  own  person  every  accu- 
sation of  the  Southerners.     He  is  the  son  of  a  Southerner,  from  a 


478  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Southern  city.  His  rich,  white  father  brought  him  to  New  York, 
and  left  money  for  his  future  education.  Those  Southerners  are  the 
very  o?ies  who  practice  amalgamation.  And,  worse  still,  who  multiply 
and  replenish  their  slave-coifers  with  their  own  children,  the  off- 
spring of  their  own  flesh  and  blue  blood." 

"  Now,  Buddington,  you  must  know  this  is  all  a  fabrication  by 
the  abolitionists  ;  we  do  not  credit  it,"  cried  all,  unanimously. 

"  Gentlemen,  I  can  bring  before  your  eyes  the  *  free  papers  '  of 
Ishmael  Paisley,  signed  by  his  father's  own  hand  when  he  made 
him  free  ;  but  I  prefer  not." 

"  Well  then,  Mr.  Buddington,  allowing  the  supposition  that  the 
tall  mulatto,  or  Paisly,  as  you  call  him,  has  a  respectable  parentage, 
that  black  Hester  you  had  with  you  in  your  pew  is  guilty  of  the 
grossest  crimes.  She  is  a  liar  and  a  thief;  has  been  turned  out 
of  even  the  negro  seat  for  breaking  out  into  one  of  her  silly  giggles. 
She  dropped  a  silver  half-dollar  out  of  her  pocket,  which  she  must 
have  stolen,  for  nobody  pays  her  cash  for  her  work,"  said  Deacon 
Steele. 

"  And  yet,"  coolly  replied  Mrs.  Buddington,  who  had  previously 
entered  the  room,  "  some  white  man  in  this  town  is  the  father  of 
Roland,  her  boy.  This  one  case  is  sufficient  proof,  that  while  the 
lips  profess  a  prejudice  to  color,  the  heart  has  it  not.  Gentlemen," 
she  continued,  "  his  father,  whoever  he  may  be,  has  as  much  sold 
Roland  to  poverty  and  shame,  as  the  Southerner  sells  his  own 
brown  children  in  the  shambles.  Pardon  me,  gentlemen,  but  my 
gra3'-haired  father  taught  me  to  sow  the  truth,  fearlessly  and  hope- 
fully, on  all  soils." 

Deacon  Steele's  nose  was  purpled  more  deeply,  his  face  burned, 
apparently,  with  righteous  indignation.  He  rose  quickly  to  his  feet, 
and  addressing  the  committee,  said  hurriedly, — 

"  Let  us  retire,  my  friends.  Our  duty  is  done,  whether  this 
family  hear  or  forbear." 

Filette  had  early  received  numerous  calls  from  the  ladies  of  the 
town  \  for  they  desired  to  secure  to  themselves  the  friendship  of 
the  mistress  of  so  fine  an  establishment  as  George  Buddington's 
After  the  pew  affair,  calls  ceased,  and  the  "  stra?ige  woman,''  as 
she  was  termed,  was  left  to  herself. 

Another  friendship  awaited  her,  however,  which  amply  compen- 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  479 

sated  for  the  lost  aggregate.  One  quiet  September  afternoon, 
Doctor  Clarendon  stopped  his  horse  at  the  gate,  came  up  the  walk 
with  a  lady  in  mourning,  and  at  the  open  door,  introduced  "  Mrs. 
Steele,"  adding, — 

"  My  daughter  has  been  out  very  little  since  her  return  from  the 
South,  but  she  has  conceived  a  strong  desire  to  call  upon  Ivlrs. 
Buddington,  and  relieve  her,  in  a  measure,  from  the  ostracism 
which  at  present  prevails  in  this  town.  Lucy  has  had  some  experi- 
ence, madam  ;  and  I  believe  in  her  you  will  find  the  noble  senti- 
ments of  yourself  and  husband  reciprocated.  I  am  going  my 
rounds,  and  will  call  for  her  in  a  few  hours.     Adieu.'' 

That  call  was  the  initiation  of  an  attachment  lasting  through 
life. 

Lucy  and  Filette  soon  had  no  secrets  reserved  the  one  from 
the  other.  Twin  spirits,  they  became  a  mutual  strength  and  sup- 
port. 

Doctor  Clarendon  and  his  wife  were  greatly  changed  by  Lucy's 
return,  so  that  an  intimacy  sprung  up  between  the  Buddingtons 
and  Clarendons  till  they  became  of  one  mind  and  purpose. 

Since  Squire  Buddington's  return  from  the  St.  Louis  outrage, 
his  thoughts  turned  with  mysterious  affection  to  Richard  Beame. 
On  the  day  of  the  revival  mob,  he,  too,  had  scoffed  at  him  and  his 
words.  Now,  they  had  a  new  meaning.  He  sought  Richard  out, 
confided  to  him  the  secret  carefully  guarded  from  others,  learned 
from  his  lips  the  dark  history  of  American  oppression,  and  con- 
ferred with  him  upon  his  late  determination  and  future  course. 

Thus,  Fanny  was  led  into  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Buddington 
and  the  doctor's  families.  Her  clear  and  severe  ideas  of  ethics 
caused  her  to  form,  with  Filette  and  Lucy,  a  trio  of  strength  and 
inflexibility  in  the  adjustment  of  human  rights. 

Simon  Link,  or  "  Mr.  Link  "  as  he  was  now  respectfully  called, 
was  a  ready  coadjutor  in  all  good  works  which  the  others  planned. 
The  "rich  drovier,'  according  to  the  patronomatology  of  the  town, 
was  absent  during  a  large  portion  of  the  year,  but  ever  on  his 
return  was  welcomed  into  the  charmed  circle  of  fanatics,  around 
which  the  churches  and  the  rest  of  the  town  drew  a  broad  margin 
of  isolation. 

After  the  long  drive  from  Mr.  Snow's  to  Cloudspire,  on  the  wed- 


480  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

ding-day,  Mr.  Link  yearned  for  Thad's  presence.  He  plead  with 
Mary  and  his  Uncle  George  that  he  should  live  with  him  for  one 
year,  at  least. 

'*  My  house  is  large  and  empty,"  he  said.  "  I  want  to  hear  his 
lively  feet  running  over  it.  I  want  to  teach  him  to  love  the  dumb 
critters  in  my  barns.  I  like  to  hear  his  young  voice  among  the 
neighing  horses  and  the  innocent  lowing  of  my  cattle.  Then,  you 
see,  I  shall  make  only  one  trip  West,  this  cool,  fall  weather,  and  I'll 
take  him  with  me  and  let  him  see  the  world.  Why,  Mrs.  Budding- 
ton,  I'll  watch  over  him  as  carefully  as  I  would  over  a  handsome 
colt.  In  the  winter,  he  shall  go  to  school  every  day  it  keeps.  I 
think  Thad  takes  to  my  kind  of  business,  and  likes  it.  You  see  I 
am  alone,  and  need  him.     What  do  you  say  }  " 

So  Mary  gave  up  Thad,  with  the  assurance  of  her  brother-in-law 
that  it  would  be  a  good  school  for  him  ;  and  Simon  Link's  solitary 
life  blossomed  into  happy  hours  with  Thad,  and  the  companionship 
of  the  three  families  before  mentioned. 

Early  in  the  fall,  the  pastor  of  Cloudspire  received  a  letter  from 
the  Rev.  Edmund  Stone  of  South  Carolina,  whom  the  reader  will 
remember  as  the  former  revival  preacher;  now  the  spiritual  adviser 
of  slaves  in  that  State. 

By  a  letter  from  Deacon  Steele,  he  had  learned  the  aspect  of 
affairs  in  Cloudspire.  In  reply,  Mr.  Stone  stated  that  his  mind 
was  "  profoundly  moved  ;  that  ^a?rs  were  growing  up  among  the 
7i>/ieaf  of  Cloudspire  church  ;  that  the  church  should  be  imme- 
diately expurged  of  false  doctrines  and  their  promulgators  ;  that 
the  defiant  act  of  George  Buddington  and  Doctor  Clarendon,  in 
taking  negroes  into  their  pews,  was  heresy  to  the  Constitution  and 
the  foundations  of  American  institutions  ;  that  the  placing  the  de- 
graded race  destined  by  the  decrees  of  God  for  slavery,  on  an 
equality  with  '  Anglo  Saxons,'  would  inflame  the  South  to  justifi- 
able acts  of  revenge ;  that  the  most  odious  feature  of  that  fanatical 
movement,  was  the  evident  aim  of  amalgamation  ;  that  he  (Stone) 
was  filled  with  sorrow,  that  the  church  wherein  God  had  wrought 
so  many  mighty  works  should  sit  in  the  dust  of  humiliation  for  that 
sin  which  is  not  only  the  dread  of  the  high-toned  Southerner,  but 
repulsive  to  every  pure  and  Christian  soul." 

He  closed  by  an  earnest  appeal  to  the  pastor  and  deacons,  to  set 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  48 1 

about  casting  that  odium  from  their  midst,  all  of   which  the  Cloud- 
spire  pastor  communicated  to  Mr.  Buddington. 

Reports  of  this  letter  reached  the  doctor.  Conferences  were 
held  on  both  sides,  and  conclusions  attained. 

Lucy  Steele,  a  few  weeks  previous,  had  followed  Filette'  s  exam- 
ple, and  had  taken  Bin  ah  into  the  doctor's  pew  with  herself. 

Richarad  and  Fanny  drove  occasionally  from  Alderbank  up  to 
the  church,  with  the  two  brown  children  of  Henry  Hughes.  By 
the  doctor's  invitation,  they  took  seats  in  his  pew. 

An  ominous  sky  lowered  over  the  face  of  the  church.  There- 
fore, by  the  continued  advice  of  Edmund  Stone  of  South  Carolina, 
a  second  committee,  reinforced  by  the  pastor,  hastily  repaired  to 
the  house  of  Squire  Buddington,  for  the  doctor's  pew  was  consid- 
ered only  the  flagrant  shadow  of  the  Buddington  offence.  He  was 
the  chief  criminal  of  all. 

Squire  Buddington  met  this  committee  with  a  truce,  which, 
though  far  from  satisfactory,  each  one  was  forced,  mentally  to  ac- 
knowledge, was  his  ultimatum. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "it  is  useless  to  repeat  arguments. 
"Whoever  obeys  laws  or  customs  which  are  not  in  harmony  with 
the  benificent  laws  of  our  Creator,  steps  aside  from  the  paths  of 
rectitude.  I  consider  that  He  has  made  all  nations  of  one  blood  ; 
that,  as  His  Word  teaches.  He  is  no  respecter  of  persons.  It  is 
our  common  belief  that  the  gospel  should  be  preached  to  every 
creature." 

"Yes,  yes!  Mr.  Buddington,"  interrupted  one  of  the  number, 
"  we  believe  that ;  but  these  negroes  can  hear  the  gospel  if  they 
sit  alone  by  themselves." 

Here  the  pastor  threw  in  a  remark  uttered  in  an  oily,  persuasive 
voice, — 

"  For  the  sake  of  brotherly  love  towards  the  excitable  South,  we 
should  desist  from  offences  of  this  kind.  Your  example  has  al- 
ready been  followed  by  Doctor  Clarendon  and  young  Beame. 
Your  sitting  with  those  negroes  has  a  dark  look  on  the  face  of  it. 
There  are  two  things,  in  respect  to  which  the  South,  as  a  body, 
are  in  constant  terror.  Insurrection  in  their  own  borders^  and 
amalgamation  or  a  mixture  of  bloods,  here !  They  are  sensitive  and 
watchful,  desiring  to  preserve  slavery,  which  has  been  handed  down 


482  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

to  US  from  the  earliest  times,  within  the  bounds  of  propriety.  Let 
me  entreat  you,  Mr.  Buddington,  to  desist  from  angering  the 
South." 

"  Thank  you,"  replied  the  squire.  I  must  take  conscience  and 
experience  for  my  guide,  and  will  therefore  finish  what  I  intended 
to  say  at  the  beginning.  I  have  resolved  to  withdraw  from  the 
church  in  which  1  could  not  cease  from  giving  offence.  Gentle- 
men, I  have  nothing  farther  to  offer." 

Deacon  Steele  blew  his  purple  nose,  wiping  away  religious  tears, 
and  said, — 

"The  cause  of  Zion  will  suffer  a  great  loss  in  your  withdrawal ; 
but  having  faithfully  borne  our  message,  we  are  compelled  to  ac- 
quiesce." 

Before  Saturday  night,  the  news,  on  the  swift  wings  of  gossip, 
flew  over  the  town.  Farmers  stopped  their  loads  of  wood  and 
cider  in  the  highway,  to  congratulate  each  other  on  the  removal  of 
the  scandal. 

"  That  letter  from  that  revival  preacher  in  Caroliny  did  the 
work,  you  see." 

''Yes,"  was  the  reply,  "  and  our  minister  is  the  right  kind,  too  !  " 

Others,  too  worldly  to  stop  teams,  called  out  with  the  "Go  'long, 
haw — there!  Gee!  No  more  nig2:ers  in  the  king's  pew,  now!" 
and  struck  into  a  shrill,  victorious  whistle. 

Prudent  wives  threw  on  their  shawls,  took  their  knitting,  and 
ran  over  to  the  neighbors,  to  say  how  glad  they  were  that  those 
niggers  would  not  be  seen  in  church  any  more. 

"  I  declare,"  sa3's  one,  "that  yeller  feller  is  a  temptation  to  have 
in  any  church !  he's  a'most  white,  and  his  hair  curls  like  a  doll's  ! 
I  threw  a  s"archin<:c  look  over  the  meetin'-house,  several  times  Sun- 
days,  and  I  see  the  girls  all  a  lookin'  at  him." 

"I  know,"  was  the  earnest  reply.  *•  I've  seen  the  same,  and  I 
shook  my  head  at  'em  several  times.  The  girls  have  all  got  it 
that  he  is  a  Southerner's  son.  I  overheard  my  Sarah  and  your 
Anna  telling  how  handsome  he  is.  I  offered  up  a  silent  prayer 
then,  that  the  temptation  might  be  removed,  and  I  believe  my 
prayer  is  answered." 

''That  rich  Buddington  is  going  to  leave  the  church." 

"I  guess  there  isn't  much  danger  of  Deacon  Steele's  girl,  Mary, 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  483 

looking  at  that  mulatto,  for  she's  taught  better ;  her  Uncle  William, 
when  he  was  on  from  the  South,  made  the  deacon  forbid  Mary 
from  speaking  to  that  black  Henry  Hughes,  unless  to  give  him  an 
order.     I  noticed  she  sat  with  her  back  that  way,  to  that  mulatto." 

"  Speakin' of  Mary  Steele,  do  you  know — "  The  visitor  lowered 
her  voice  to  a  whisper,  "  I  would'nt  dare  tell  anybody  but  you, 
that  I  ever  had  such  a  thought,  —  do  you  know  that,  sometimes,  I 
think  white  people  look  like  niggers  ?  Mary  used  to  learn  that 
thieving  Hester's  Roland  his  letters,  Sunday  noons,  over  there  un- 
der the  stairs  ;  and  I've  said  to  myself,  'She  looks  more  like  him, 
than  his  mother,  Hester,  does  ! '  " 

I  don't  know  as  I've  seen  white  folks  look  like  black  ones,  but  I've 
seen  the  black  ones  look  like  white  folks.  I  should  hate,  dread- 
fully, to  have  my  Sarah  look  like  a  black  person," 

Everybody  rejoiced  that  the  dragon  had  been  cast  out. 

On  Sunday  morning  the  peace  of  Cloudspire  religion  brooded 
over  the  town.  It  was  a  lovely  Sabbath,  robed  in  the  purple  haze 
of  Indian  summer.  The  very  trees  seemed  to  have  cast  their 
bright  garments  in  the  way,  and  over  the  lawns,  for  the  feet  of  the 
victorious  followers  of  Christ,  and  the  tramp  of  their  horses. 

Happy  knots  in  the  sunshine  about  the  wide-open  double  green 
door,  gradually  dissolved  and  passed  into  the  sanctuary,  to  the  last 
solemn  tolling  of  the  bell,  that  seemed  to  proclaim  upon  the  ame- 
thystine air,  "The  Lord  reigneth!  Let  the  inhabitants  of  the 
earth  be  glad." 

Happy  thought!  Squire  Buddington's  pew  was  empty.  Lo  ! 
during  the  short  hush  before  the  services,  heels  of  a  swift  horse 
threw  up  the  rustling  leaves  ;  soft  footsteps  came  up  the  broad 
aisle  ;  Paisley,  Hester  and  Roland  took  seats  in  the  vacant  pew. 
A  moment  later,  Richard  Beame,  Fanny,  and  the  two  brown  children 
of  Henry  Hughes,  followed,  and  took  seats  in  the  same  place. 

Blank  consternation  appeared  upon  the  faces  of  the  young  men 
and  the  elders.  Evidently,  love's  labor  was  lost.  By  degrees, 
wrath,  the  imps  of  wrath,  hate,  vindictiveness,  malice,  and  resent- 
ment sprang  up  from  their  hearts,  and  sat  their  distorted  shapes 
upon  the  faces  of  the  worshipping  congregation,  like  the  fantastic, 
grotesque,  and  frightful  gargoyles  of  -the  Middle  Ages  which  leered 
from  the  cornices  of  sacred  editices. 


484  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Richard  Beame  carried  away  with  him  in  memory,  from  that 
purple  morning,  some  of  those  writhing  faces  as  incentives  to  the 
darinof  course  of  his  stern  future.  After  the  benediction,  and 
after  Richard  and  Fanny  drove  away  with  their  charges,  Hester 
took  the  lunch  basket,  and  with  Paisley  and  Roland  sat  down  upon 
the  fallen  mantle  of  a  glowing  maple. 

The  old  meeting-house  was  surrounded  with  a  clean,  modulating 
greensward,  sprinkled  with  clustered  trees.  At  summer  and 
autumn  noons  it  became  a  lively  panorama.  Children  gaily  dressed, 
girls  with  wandering  eyes,  sun-browned  youths  assuming  cockney 
airs,  matrons  and  fathers  were  standing  or  flitting  about. 

To-day,  the  music  of  rustling  leaves  was  unremitting.  Bevies  of 
pretty  misses  and  children  swept  around  and  past  the  maple  over- 
shadow'ing  Issy.  Many  a  bright-lipped  maiden  in  passing,  dropped 
a  silvery  "  How  do  you  do,  Hester,"  while  their  glances  fell  kindly 
upon  the  beautiful  Issy,  like  blessings.  Groups  of  children 
walked  slowly  past,  and  in  low  voices,  ventured  to  say,  "Where  do 
you  live,  now,  Roland  ?  "  for  they  felt  that  his  lot  was  as  unsettled 
as  the  breeze-blown  leaves  on  the  church  lawn. 

Had  they  been  allowed  to  follow  the  promptings  of  their  Christ- 
like love  and  innocence,  they  would  have  importuned  Roland  to 
walk  with  them.  Hand  in  hand  with  the  town's  outcast,  they  would 
have  sought  pleasant  nooks  and  sunny  spots,  mingling  their  happy 
laughter  with  his. 

A  few  matrons  passed  at  a  proper  distance,  and  with  curious 
eyes  discovered  that  there  was  spread  before  each  one  of  the 
branded  trio  a  snowy  napkin,  on  which  awaited  a  wheat  bread 
sandwich,  and  an  ample  piece  of  frosted  cake  !  This  discovery  was 
the  cause  of  the  bristltng  up  of  a  regiment  of  exclamation  points  — 
'  horribile  dictu's.  * 

Just  before  the  tolling  of  the  bell  for  afternoon  worship,  five  men 
slowly  approached  the  solitary  group  under  the  maples. 

Hester  whispered, — 

"  I  know  every  one  of  those  men  ;  they  are  the  committee  that 
came  to  Mr.  Buddington's." 

"  So  do  I,"  whispered  Roland,  "  but  I'm  not  afraid  of  'em." 

"Hush  —  sh  !  "  answered  Hester,  under  her  breath. 

The  committee  came  up,  formed  around,  and  looked  down  upon 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  485 

them,  as  the  American  eagle  is  supposed  to  hover  and  settle  down 

upon  his  prey. 

"  Young  man  "  said   the  chairman,  addressing  Issy,  "  be  you  a 

Southener's  son  ? " 

Issy,  his  eyes  still  fixed  upon  the  ground,  replied, — 

"  I^suppose  I  am,  sir  ;  a  great  many  persons  besides  my  mother 
told  me  so  in  my  native  city." 

"  What  color  was  your  mother,  boy  ?  " 

"  Black,  sir." 

"  Where  is  your  mother,  now  .-* " 

"  Dead,  sir." 

"  Then  your  father  was  a  white  man  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

*'  Do  you  think  your  father,  if  he  was  here,  would  want  you  to 
sit  in  the  pew  with  him  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  sir;  he  wanted  my  mother  about  him." 

Here,  Hester  broke  into  one  of  her  uncontrollable  laughs,  that 
once  caused  her  expulsion  from  the  church,  catching  up  the  nap- 
kin to  her  mouth  to  stop  the  bubbling  sin  as  best  he  could. 

''-  Hester,"  spoke  one  of  the  committee,  a  head  shorter  than  the 
others,  and  whose  tones  were  in  the  last  shrill  notes  of  an  ex- 
hausted bagpipe,  "  Hester,  I  say,  if  you  were  half-witted,  you  ought 
to  learn  by  this  time  not  lo  giggle  on  the  Sabbath,  as  if  it  were  a 
week  day,  nor  to  treat  a  committee  of  the  church  in  this  way." 

"This  foolishness  only  verifies  the  incapacitated  brain  of  the 
race  ! "  soothingly  interposed  a  gaunt,  black-gloved  member  ;  *'  let 
us  attend  to  the  case  in  hand." 

"  What  brought  you  North,  boy  ?  " 

Issy  had  risen  and  stood  respectfully  before  his  interlocutors. 

"  IMy  white  sister  was  my  owner,  and  she  mortgaged  me,  sir. 
My  father  paid  the  mortgage  and  brought  me  North,  because  he 
said,  '  if  I  was  sold  to  owners  they  might  treat  me  cruelly.' " 

"  What  did  your  sister  mortgage  you  for? " 

"  To  buy  dresses,  sir." 

"  How  came  she  to  own  you  ? " 

"  I  was  given  to  her,  that  I  might  be  raised  in  the  family." 

"  Well,  it's  pretty  near  bell-time  ;  we're  come  to  tell  you  three, 


486  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

that  you'd  better  go  into  the  negro  seats  under  the  stairs,  this  af- 
ternoon.    Mr.  Buddington's  left  the  church." 

'•  I  should  not  like  to  go  there  without  Mr.  Buddington's  orders," 
modestly  replied  Issy,  gracefully  raising  his  hat  from  the  silken 
waves  beneath.  "  He  will  continue  to  pay  for  the  pew,  that  we 
may  hear  the  gospel  preached." 

*'  He  told  us  to  sit  there,"  clamored  Roland,  peering  at  them 
with  eyes  as  bright  as  a  squirrel's  cracking  nuts.  "  I  like  the  red 
cushions  best ;  and  Mrs.  Buddington  has  named  the  pew  for  us. 
What's  the  name,  Issy.''" 

"The  '  Refuge  of  Oppression,'  Roland." 

"Then  his  wife  has  set  you  up  not  to  go  into  the  pew  under  the 
stairs  ?  What  has  a  woman  to  do  with  church  affairs  ?  "  questioned 
Deacon  Steele,  tartly. 

"  She  didn't  set  us  up,  Deacon  Steele,"  hastily  replied  Roland, 
beating  the  leaves  to  a  lively  dance  with  a  decayed  branch.  '^  She 
didn't  set  us  up.  Issy  and  mother  offered  to  sit  under  the  stairs, 
but  I  said,  '  1  wanted  to  set  in  Mr.  Buddington's  red-cushioned 
pew.'     She  didn't  set  us  up,  did  she,  Issy  .''  " 

"  Far  from  that,  sir.  Mr.  Buddington  concluded  not  to  sit  with 
us, —  it  made  trouble,  but  he  said  we  must  hear  the  gospel  preached, 
and  he  wished  us  to  have  a  comfortable  seat ;  also,  that  he  paid 
fifty  dollars  before,  and  will  now  pay  for  this  pew  one  hundred 
dollars." 

"  That's  a  generous  offer,  but  his  money  won't  buy  liberty  to 
commit  sin  before  the  altar  of  the  Lord.  Why,  bless  me,  if  you 
should  continue  to  sit  there,  the  whole  church  will  be  pulled  down 
over  your  heads  !  " 

"  Do  you  mean  the  church  will  be  pulled  down  to-da}^,  sir  ? " 
timidly  inquired  Paisley. 

"Not  to-day,  on  the  Sabbath.  No!  We  keep  the  Sabbath. 
But  mind,  this  church  will  not  be  baulked  or  bribed.  Now,  will 
you  three  go  where  the  good  juldgment  and  kindness  of  the  North 
and  South  place  you,  in  a  pew  by  yourselves?  " 

"  We  do  sit  in  a  pew  by  ourselves,  sir." 

"  Under  the  stairs  I '^  thundered  the  tall  man  in  black  gloves. 

"  I  prefer  to  go  into  Mr.  Buddington's  pew,  this  afternoon." 

The  bell  began  its  call  for  all  loiterers  to  gather  ;  solemnly,  at 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  487 

first,  it  called  the  attention  of  the  straggling  flock  ;  then  it  seemed 
to  bellow  forth  wrath  to  listening  ears;  its  heavy  iron  tongue 
swung  to  and  fro,  with  the  volubility  of  a  parrot.  The  people 
heard  the  voice  above  their  heads,  saying, — 

"  ^F^  a://// «;z/z//^//^z/^— annihilate  — annihilate  !  We  will  anni- 
hilate —  annihilate  —  annihilate  —  late  —  late  —  late  !  We  will 
annihilate  the  outcasts  and  their  friends —friends —  ends —the 
outcasts  and  their  friends  —  friends  —  ends  ! '' 

Keeping  step  to  this  cantata  of  the  bell,  the  committee  left  the 
marked  m'aple  and  crossed  the  lawn  to  the  green  door. 

Hester  rose  from  her  sitting  on  the  ground,  which  she  had 
maintained  in  their  presence,  and  remarked, — 

"There's  the  tithing-man  come  out  to  meet  'em,  and  they're 
shaking  their  heads.  I  wonder  if  we  shall  be  turned  out,  this  af- 
ternoon." ,11,  1 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Issy  ;  "  those  Northern  bloodhounds 
have  tried  us,  and  they've  gone  oft  now.  on  another  scent." 

"I  don't  care  if  they  do!"  flashed  Roland.  "It's  pleasanter 
out  here  than  in  there,  and  they  can't  drive  us  away  from  ou'  doors, 

can  they?" 

"Yes,  child,"  bitterly  responded  Issy.  "In  the  South,  they 
drive  us' into  the  rivers  and  lakes,  and  into  sand-banks.  To  speak 
the  truth,  I  don't  care  to  hear  the  white  men's  gospel  preached  ; 
there  is  not  one  drop  of  Jesus'  love  in  it,  for  us.'' 

However,  the  trio  went  up  the  aisle  again,  amidst  grim  faces  that 
glared  at  them  like  the  ferocious  eyes  of  wild  beasis  in  their 
coverts.  The  tithing-man  did  not  molest,  and  at  the  close  of  wor- 
ship the  swift-footed  bay,  driven  by  Mr.  Buddington  himself,  carried 
them  away  home. 

On  one  of  those  lovely,  October  days,  when  Nature  seems  intoxi- 
cated with  sunshine  and  colors,  and  when  Filette  longed  for  the 
companionship  of  Lucy,  strangely  enough,  Lucy  came.  Tripping 
up    the    steps  to  the    piazza  with    sympathizing   warmth,  she    de- 

clared  ^^~ 

"I  could  not  stay  av/ay  longer.  I  am  weary  of  the  sight  of  those 
staring  windows  in  that  unsightly  mass  of  deception,  they  call  the 
church.     That  is  in  front  of  our  house,  you  know  ;  and  the  grave- 


488  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

yard,  rank  with  weeds  and  leaning,  moss-grown  stones,  is  too 
severe  a  monitor  for  my  happiness." 

"  I  think  you  must  have  con>e  at  my  spirit's  bidding,  for  I  yearned 
to  hear  your  voice  and  look  in  your  eyes,  to-day,"  responded 
Filette. 

"  Don't  look  into  my  eyes  till  the  spell  that  is  On  them  is  irra- 
diated with  the  amber  and  .crimson  light  that  drops  from  these 
trees,  and  with  the  cheerful  beauty  of  your  surroundings,  Filette." 

''Then  let  us  remain  out,  until  the  balm  of  summer  pervades 
our  feelings.  I  will  bring  Mary;  she  is  suffering  too.  It  is  near 
the  anniversary  of  Her  husbahd's  departure  for  Texas,  and  his 
consequent  death.     She  must  come  with  Alfy." 

"  Roland,  also,  if  Alfy  ;  for  they  are  always  together.  Children's 
voices  exorcise  gloom." 

"And  I  will  run  around  to  the  kitchen  for  Binah  and  Hester; 
Binah  came  with  me." 

So  the  pleasant  home  was  left  to  itself. 

"Let  us  go  among  these  yellow  copses  of  birches  and  aspens, 
and  among  the  dark  clusters  of  evergreen  hemlocks." 

"  And  where  the  sumacs  are  dropping  rubies,"  replied  Filette. 

"  Down  by  the  brook,  too,  where  the  mosses  and  feathery  ferns 
are,  mother,"  added  Alfy's  sweet  voice. 

"Look  at  Alfy,"  Lucy  whispered  to  Filette,  "as  his  beautiful 
face  turns  to  his  mother.  Alfy  is  a  lovely  poem,  writ  by  the  hand 
divine." 

"  And  a  forehead  fair  and  saintly 
Which  two  blue  eyes  undershine, 
Like  meek  prayers,  before  a  shrine  — 

Yet,  child-simple,  undefiled, 
Frank,  obedient  —  waiting  still 
On  the  turning  of  your  will." 

Roland  rushed   up  to  Filette,   holding  above  his  head  a  white 

violet. 

"Look  !  look  !  Mrs.  Buddington,  I  found  a  white  violet V^ 
"True,  Roland!  a   white  violet  in  October  is  a  rarity.     I   think 

it  must  be  a  good  omen  ior  you,  my  boy.     Give  it  to   our  guest, 

Miss  Lucy." 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  489 

"  How-  happy  the  children  are.  I  think  this  amalgamated  walk 
will  be  one  psalm  of  our  lives." 

"  A  psalm  as  acceptable  to  the  Creator  as  one  of  David's,"  re- 
marked Lucy.  "  I  agree  that  this  week-day  psalm  of  our  lives  will 
be  far  more  acceptable  to  Heaven,  than  those  weak-witted,  over- 
strained psalms  of  Watt's,  which  Cloudspire  church  whines  out 
with  dismal  drawl,  every  Sabbath  ;  this,  for  instance." 

After  an  echoing  laugh,  in  which  the  hemlocks  joined,  she  re 
peated  "  The  Filgriniage  of  the  Saints y 

"  Lord  !  what  a  wretched  land  is  this, 
That  yields  us  no  supply  ; 
No  cheering  fruits,  no  wholesome  trees. 
Nor  streams  of  living  joy. 

But  prickly  thorns  through  all  the  ground 

And  mortal  poisons  grow  ; 
And  all  the  rivers  that  are  found, 

With  dangerous  waters  flow. 

Yet  the  dear  path  to  Thine  abode, 

Lies  through  this  horrid  land  ; 
Lord  !  we  would  keep  the  heavenly  road. 

And  run  at  Thy  command. 

Our  souls  shall  tread  the  desert  through, 

With  undiverted  feet ; 
And  faith,  and  flaming  zeal,  subdue 

The  terrors  that  we  meet. 

By  glimmering  hopes,  and  gloomy  fears 

We  trace  the  sacred  road, 
Through  dismal  deeps  and  dangerous  snares. 

We  make  our  way  to  God." 

Filette  stood  among  the  white  boles  of  a  cluster  of  birches.  The 
whole  party  were  overshadowed  by  its  illuminating  gold.  Alfy 
came  up  at  the  first  verse,  holding  between  his  thumb  and  finger, 
a  blue  violet.  At  the  close,  he  asked  with  terror  in  his  wondering 
look, —  / 

"  Where  is  that  place,  auntie?  " 

"'Taint  here  !  "  called  out  Roland,  dancing  around  Hester;  "if 
it  was,  there  wouldn't  be  no  white  nor  blue  viohts:'' 

"  Where  ^o  you  thmk  that  place  is,  Binah  ?  "  queried  Lucy. 


49°  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  Dat  place,  full  ob  thorn  and  pisen,  and  dismal  s\vamp,'be  down 
South,  where  de  slabe  run  way  from  oberseer  whip  !  Dare  ain't  no 
odder,  bad  as  dat." 

"  What  is  your  opinion,  Hester  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  that  was  the  path  I've  been  struggling  through 
to  get  bread,  all  my  life." 

"There,  we've  all  guessed,  now  tell  us  the  riddle!  "  shouted 
Roland,  amidst  a  general  outburst  of  glee. 

"  My  friends,  that  terrible,  ^/<^^;;ri',  thorny,  poison,  barre?t  route,  is 
the  route  the^loudspire  church  is  taking  to  Heaven  !  "  said  Lucy. 
"  We  think  it  is  a  wrong  way.  There  is  a  better  one.  Our  pleas- 
ant route  to-day,  through  purple  haze  and  golden  sunshine,  with 
happy   and   laughing  voices,  is  the  right  direction.     Let  us  move 


on." 


Roland  threw  up  his  hat,  and  ran  ahead  with  Alfy. 

"  I  'clar,  I  don't  want  go  to  Heaben  dat  oder  road.  Wants  to 
go  wid  ]\Iiss  Lucy,"  said  Binah. 

"  And  /with  Mrs.  Buddington,'^  said  Hester. 

By  this  time  the  boys  were  calling  from  the  brook-side, — 

"  Come  !  come  !  where  the  mosses  are.     Come  get  the  ferns." 

Down  into  the  "rushy  dell"  they  plunged,  enraptured  with  the 
narrow  babbling  brook  and  its  green,  ferny  fringes,  hunting  mosses 
under  the  willows,  or  reaching  for  the  bright  scarlet  berries  of  the 
bitter-sweet  swinging  above  their  heads. 

Roland,  the  pioneer,  tired  of  mosses,  led  off  Miss  Lucy  and 
Hester  over  the  brook,  and  up  the  opposite  hill,  crested  by  a  chest- 
nut grove,  anxious  lest  the  "bandit  squirrel  "  should  smuggle  all  the 
nuts  away. 

Alfy  wandered  up  the  little  stream,  drawing  along  with  him, 
Mary,  Filette  and  Bmah.  Suddenly  approaching  a  low  copse,  over- 
grown with  vines,  he  ran  back  to  his  mother.  The  wildest  fear  was 
stamped  upon  his  waxen  face. 

"  Oh  !  mother,  somebody  is  there  under  the  alders,  dead  !  in 
rao:2ed  clothes  !  " 

A  thought  of  her  husband's  untimely  grave  caused  her  to 
shudder ;  quick  suspicion  of  a  foul  wrong  blanched  her  face,  which 
was  turned  appealingly  to  Filette. 

'•''  Somebody  dead  I  ^' ^\i^  whispered. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  49 1 

"What  shall  we  do,  Binah  ?  "  asked  Filette.  "Will  you  go  with 
me  to  the  copse  ?" 

"  Sartin,  missis  ;  nobody  dead  in  dis  Ian' ;  Marse  Alfy  'stook  ; 
somebody  sleep." 

They  went  together.  Binah  bent  down  and  saw  a  dark  brown 
arm,  bare  to  the  shoulder  for  lack  of  the  sleeve  ;  it  was  thrown  over 
a  dark  face  half  buried  in.  the  leaves,  which  had  evidently  been 
brought  there  for  a  purpose. 

"  Who  is  you  ?  "  called  Binah.  "  What  for  you  sleep  ?  Who  is 
you  ?  " 

Rapidly  the  arm  fell ;  the  figure  crept  out  at  the  other  side  of 
the  copse,  and  crawled  away  among  the  undergrowth  of  alders  and 
tangled  vines. 

'•  Don't  run  'way,  pore  brudder !  "  called  Binah,  speeding  on 
after  him  ;  "  don*  run'  way  —  Binah  been  slabe  —  been  whip  — 
been  sell  —  we'se  all  frien'  —  ebry  one  — come  wid  Binah." 

The  fleeing  man  took  a  few  more  rapid  steps  over  the  crackling 
branches.  Binah  followed  slowly  at  a  distance,  then  halted,  and 
turned  upon  her  a  pitiful  look. 

'•'  Come  back,"  said  Binah.  "  Dese  white  ladies  love  we  black 
folks  —  pity  we  —  walk  wid  we.  You'se  hungry  —  dey  gib  you 
meat ;  you'se  naked  —  dey  gib  you  close.  Come  out  er  cle  bush  — 
come  in  de  house." 

Pausing  step  by  step  on  the  leaves  and  breaking  twigs,  he  drew 
near  as  if  charmed  in  spite  of  his  fears,  by  her  inviting  voice. 

"  Come  near,"  persuaded  Binah,  extending  her  hand  ;  "  two 
mo'  black  ones  up  on  de  hill  dar,  pickin'  ches'nut." 

He  spoke  not  a  word,  but  stealthily  scanned  the  deep  dell  with 
his  scared  brown  eyes. 

Binah  took  a  step  or  two  nearer,  and  in  an  undertone,  asked 
again,— 

"  Who  is  you  ?  is  you  slabe,  run  away  .'*  " 

"  Run'way  to  freedom,"  he  replied. 

"  Dis  don'  'pear  much  like  freedom,  hidin'  here  in  dis  gulch, 
on  de  leaves,  like  a  patridge.     How  long  you  trabel  ? " 

"  Dunno  ;  long  time." 

'•  Whar  you  raised  ? " 

"  Virginny." 


492  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  Whar  you  ri^n  way  to  ? " 

"Canada." 

"  Where  be  Canada  ?  " 

"  Dunno." 

"  How  you  fin'  Candy,  when  you  dunno  ?  " 

"  Foller  de  Nort'  Star." 

"  Wha's  matter  wid  your  lef  arm  ?  " 

"  White  man  shoot  me  ;  say  I  tief." 

"  I  know ;  de  white  men's  lay  all  dere  own  sin  to  we.  Come, 
speak  to  dese  ladies  —  dey  cure  you  arm." 

Both  approached  and  met  under  the  dark  shelter  of  a  hem- 
lock. 

'•  Come,"  said  Bin  ah  to  Mary,  "  speak  to  my  poor  brudder.  Got 
no  frein'  —  naked — hungry  —  fraid  —  arm  broke  wid  de  white 
man's  gun." 

Their  hearts  yearned  w^ith  pity  which  welled  to  their  eyes,  on 
the  contemplation  of  the  hunted,  tattered  unit  of  humanity  in  their 
presence.  One  coat  sleeve  was  gone;  the  other  was  torn  open  to 
the  shoulder,  to  give  opportunity  to  do  something  for  the  shattered 
bone  and  festering  wound.  His  pantaloons  hung  in  shreds  above 
his  ankles,  torn  by  the  briers  and  brush  of  the  refugee's  path  ;  his 
feet  were  torn  and  bare  ;  he  held  the  remnant  of  a  hat  in  his  right 
hand,  and  dropped  his  gaze  upon  the  ground,  asking  nothing. 

"What  is  your  name,  poor  fellow?  "  asked  Filette. 

"  Bob,  missis." 

"  What  is  your  other  name  ?  " 

"  Dat  all,  missis." 

"  Can  you  trust  to  us,  Robert  ?  We  have  three  colored  ones 
living  with  us  now  ;  one  of  them  is  from  the  South.  He  was  a 
slave  there.  My  husband  is  your  freind.  Can  you  trust  to  us, 
Robert  ? " 

"I  'spects  I  can,  missis." 

'i  You  must  have  suffered  from  the  cold  in  the  woods,  these  fall 
nights." 

"De  leabes,  missis." 

Filette  and  Mary  held  counsel  a  few  moments,  and  told  Robert 
that  there  were  men  in  that  town  whom  he  must  not  see. 

"  Robert"  continued   Filette,  "  we  think  you  had  better  go  back 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  493 

into  your  bed  under  the  alders  till  dark.  It  is  near  sunset  now  — 
it  will  not  be  long.  Then  my  husband  will  come  down  here  and 
take  you  to  our  house.  Nobody  shall  find  you  ;  a  doctor  will  be 
there,  to-night.     He  will  bind  up  your  poor  arm." 

"  You  shall  have  a  good  warm  supper  and  a  good  bed  "  said 
Alfy,  while  tears  chased  each  other  down  his  cheek.  "  Mother, 
I  whl  stay  here  too,  till  Uncle  George  comes.     Shall  I  ? " 

"  Yes,  my  son,  if  Robert  desires  it  ;  that  is  all  you  can  do  for 
him.  Szaying  here  to  watch  with  our  friend,  will  be  giving  your 
'two  mites,'  Alfy  ;  it  may  be  counted  more  than  w^e  all  shall  do." 

"  Dats  right,  Alfy,"  praised  Binah.  "  Den  when  your  Uncle 
George  comes.  Bob  will  know  he  be  frien'.  An'  you,  Bob,  you 
cober  up  in  dem  leabes  ;  de  gentlemen  come  soon  now ;  Binah 
meet  you  at  de  house." 

Roland's  shrill  call  from  the  grove,  demanded  immediate  obe- 
dience. 

''  Come  up  the  hill  !  come  quick  !  Chestnuts  !  chestnuts  !  chest- 
nuts!    Bushels!  bushels!     Come!  come!  come!     Big  ones!    big 

ones!     Come!" 

Filette  and  Mary,  during  the  ascent,  agreed  to  keep  the  dis- 
covery a  secret,  and  to  lead  their  party  home  higher  up  the  glen, 
for  Robert's  greater  safety;  for  Roland's  tongue  and  memory  were 
often  uncontrollable. 

Upon  the  return,  Lucy  and  Hester  strayed  on  together.  They 
spoke  of  the  time  of  Lucy's  marriage,  of  the  changes  since.  They 
spoke  of  Roland,  and  many  things  pertaining  to  the  past. 

"One  tiling  I  have  strongly  desired  to  learn,  Hester,"  said 
Lucy.  "  I  suppose  it  is  you,  only,  who  will  give  me  the  informa- 
tion." 

"  I  will  tell  you  anything  you  ask  me,  Miss  Lucy ;  I'm  not  afraid 

to  tell  you  anything,  now." 

"  If  what  I  ask  wounds  you,  say  so,  Hester  ;  but  I  desire  much 
to  know  the  name  of  Roland's  father." 

Hester  held  her  shawl  to  her  mouth,  bent  her  head  as  she 
walued,  and  uttered  a  little  groan  of  surprise. 

"Oh!  Miss  Lucy,  you   wont  believe  me  ; — I   was   only  fifteen 

years  old." 

"  Of  course,  I  will.     I  never  had  cause  to  disbelieve  you." 


494  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  I'll  tell  you  near  enongh  for  you  to  guess,"  said  Hester,  hold- 
ing her  shawl  to  her  lips. 
'*That  will  answer,  llester." 

"  Then,  my  Roland  is  half-brother  to  Mary  Steele." 
For  a  moment  Lucy's  thoughts  whirled  ;  but  she  traced  the  clew 
and  cried, — 

*'  Is  it  possible?     Is  Deacon  Steele  Rolands's  father?  " 
They  proceeded  homeward  in  silence,  till  Lucy  broke  into  a  soft 
laugh. 

"  Do  you  know,  Hester,  that  I  am  Roland's  aunt  ? " 
"  No,  Miss  Lucy,  no.  You  are  no  relation  to  my  boy." 
"I  insist  that  I  am.  You  see.  Deacon  Steele's  family  has  cast 
me  off,  because,  conscientiously,  I  take  up  the  cause  of  the  poor 
and  oppressed.  Now  I  will  manifest  good  for  evil  ;  I  will  show  to 
the  world  my  attachment  to  the  Steele  blood.  The  thought  has 
just  occurred  to  me.  There  is  not  a  male  descendant  of  the 
Steele  brothers,  living ;  my  own  darling  boy  sleeps  in  the  soil  of 
Carolina.  Hester,  he  was  all  my  comfort  in  that  far-off  State. 
But  Willie  is  dead  !     It  was  a  cruel  grief." 

"  Time,  but  the  impression,  stronger  marks, 
As  streams  their  channels,  deeper  wear." 

In  a  sorrowing  monotone,  she  soliloquized, — 

"  I  walk  my  parlor  floor, 

And  through  the  open  door, 
I  hear  a  foot-fall  on  the  chamber  floor ; 

I'm  stepping  towards  the  hall 

To  give  the  boy  a  call  ; 
And  then  bethink  me,  that, —  he  is  not  there  !  " 

"Oh,  Miss  Lucy!  you  are  crying.  Do  not  go  on,  so.  'Twill 
break  your  heart." 

"  Hester,  that  South  robbed  me  of  my  dearest  hopes.  The  one 
lovely  blossom  of  my  life  folded  its  beauty  there  ;  and  sometimes, 
these  gusts  of  feeling  will  rush  over  me,  and  this  plash  of  tears 
will  fall;  I  have  wandered  from  the  point  of  conversation.  I  was 
saying,  there  is  no  male  heir  to  the  Steele  name.  I  want  some 
purpose  added  to  my  life.  Will  you  give  me  your  Roland  ?  Do 
not  decide  abruptly  ;  let  me  explain.     He  shall  take  the  place  of 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  495 

my  lost  child  ;  I  have  means.  He  shall  be  educated  ;  I  will  dress 
him  as  Willie  would  have  dressed  ;  he  shall  be  respected ;  I  will 
call  him  *  my  nephew,'  Roland  Steele,  and  he  shall  call  me 
*  Auntie.'  By  doing  this,  I  shall  give  an  even-handed  blow  to  the 
mockery  of  pretended  prejudice,  and  the  hypocritical  cant  against 
color.  I  have  several  debts  of  ihat  kind  to  cancel.  This  acknowl- 
edgement of  your  son,  Roland,  will  be  a  step  in  that  direction. 

"Hester,  when  I  think  of  the  wrongs  cf  colored  women,  my 
heart  sinks.  North  and  South,  more  especially  the  latter,  they  are 
forbidden  marriage,  by  statute.  These  unholy  and  God  defying 
statutes  are  framed  by  the  very  men  who  continually  seek  and 
demand  of  colored  women  the  intimacy  of  the  marriage  relation. 
The  virtue  of  these  helpless  women  is  wrested  from  them  and 
thrown  to  the  winds  ;  and  although  they  may  live  with  these  men 
for  years,  they  can  have  no  claim  upon  their  property  or  protec- 
tion;  their  children,  termed  unlawful  upon  the  statute  book,  are 
sold  in  the  South,  as  merchandise  upon  the  auction-table.  In  the 
North,  their  children  are  sold  by  their  fathers  to  poverty,  igno- 
rance, crime  and  shame.  Hester,  give  me  Roland.  Let  him  bear 
the  name  of  '  Steele,'  the  name  of  his  heartless,  praying  father. 
Let  me  acknowledge  him  before  the  world,  as  my  '  nephcvV,'  and 
raise  him  up  to  honorable  manhood.  Do  not  decide  rashly ;  you 
shall  have  time.  Consult  Filette  and  her  husband ;  consult 
Roland's  own  good,  first.     These  will  aid  your  conclusions." 

Night  settled  down  upon  Cloudspiie,  folding  hill  and  dell  in  a 
mantle  of  darkness.  Before  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Buddington  and 
Issy,  Filette  arranged  an  unoccupied  sleeping  room  in  a  retired 
part  of  the  house.  With  Mary's  help  she  fastened  thick  blankets 
before  the  windows  and  brought  in  an  easy  cbair.  Binah.  in  the 
meantime,  built  a  bright  fire  on  the  hearth,  and  heaped  up  a  supply 
of  wood  for  the  night.  A  suit  of  Mr.  Buddington's  clothes  were 
laid  upon  the  bed  ;  the  door  was  locked  and  the  key  dropped  into 
Filette's  pocket. 

After  tea,  Filette  drew  her  husband,  Lucy  and  Hester  to  her 
room,  informing  them  of  Bob's  hiding-place,  and  what  she  had 
learned  concerning  him.  Hester  insisted  upon  sending  Roland  to 
bed,  that  there  should  be  no  danger  from  his  unguarded  observa- 
tion.    Lucy  rejoiced  that  her  father  was  coming  to  carry  herself  and 


496  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

Binah  home,  for  thus  he  would  be  able  to  attend  to  the  refugee's 
arm. 

"  Take  Issy's  cloak  down  to  the  glen,  thou  good  Samaritan,  and 
wrap  Robert  in  it,"  said  Filette  to  her  husband  ;  "  then,  any  pry- 
ing eyes  that  by  chance  may  stray  about  us,  will  be  beguiled  into 
the  thought  that  your  companion  is  Paisley,  himself." 

'•  An  angel  wife  for  a  good  Samaritan,  art  thou,  Filette  !  I  shall 
enter  the  front  door.  Do  not  light  the  hall.  Strange,  what  beauty 
this  gentle  spirit  of  humanity  lends  to  thee  !  Is  it  lawful  to  kiss 
a  Sister  of  Mercy  .?  "  he  asked,  when  she  felt  herself  drawn  to  him, 
and  the  pressure  of  his  lips  were  left  on  her  cheeks  and  brow. 
^'  Au  revoiry  dear  one,  till  I  return  with  your  wounded  charge." 

In  half  an  hour,  the  anxiety  of  the  group  in  the  parlor  was  re- 
lieved by  hearing  footsteps  on  the  darkened  staircase  ;  the  key 
to  the  front  door  was  turned.  Binah  crept  into  the  hall  and  stum- 
bled up  the  dark  stairs  with  a  smoking  supper. 

An  early  ring  at  the  bell,  started  a  shiver  of  trepidation  among 
the  ladies  in  the  well-lighted  parlor. 

'- 1  will  go  to  the  door,"  said  Lucy.  "  I  can  keep  my  self- 
possession,  whoever  it  may  be." 

Upon  turning  the  lock,  a  voice  assailed  her. 

''  What  the  mischief  do  you  mean,  locking  out  the  doctor .?  Do 
you  ever  expect  to  live  and  thrive  without  him,  and  his  nos- 
trums ? " 

"Oh,  father  !  what  made  you  come  so  early?"  she  asked,  after 
much  hilarity  in  the  parlor. 

"  Why,  because  I  felt  all  day  like  visiting  well  people.  I  want 
to  chat  to-night  on  subjects  outside  my  saddle-bags." 

"  So  you  have  left  them  at  home,  father  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  have.  Can't  you  let  your  father  be  a  man, 
amongst  men,  once  a  year  ?  " 

"  Surely  some  good  angel  drew  you  here  at  seven  o'clock." 

"  Then  some  good  angel  inveigled  me  into  leaving  my  saddle- 
bags. Now  leave  me  to  pay  my  compliments  to  the  ladies,  without 
an  accompanying  prescription." 

After  the  usual  salutations,  Filette,  laying  her  hand  upon  the 
doctor's  shoulder,  invited  him  to  follow  her. 

"  Taken  prisoner,"  he  answered  gayly.     "  What  will  become  of 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  497 

my  castle  in  the  air,  which  I  have  builded  all  day,  about  a  social 
evening,  if  I  follow  you  ?  "  As  his  shaking  sides  passed  through 
the  door,  he  continued,  "Ton  my  word,  I  think  I  should  have 
brought  my  lancet  for  self-defense,  in  this  dark  hall." 

"  Silence  !  doctor  !     Come  up  stairs." 

He  obeyed  the  mysterious  command,  finding  himself  in  the  se- 
cluded apartment  by  Robert's  arm-chair. 

From  Robert,  Binah  and  Alfy,  he  learned  that  his  patient  was 
overtaken  by  his  master  and  shot  at,  but  finally  escaped  ;  that  his 
master  had  traced  hint  to  East  Elms.  The  inference  was,  that 
hired  spies  were  on  the  hunt  at  that  moment.  For  greater  security, 
it  was  advised  that  nothing  be  spoken  concerning  Robert  on  the 
first  floor  of  the  house  ;  that  Roland  be  kept  out  of  the  secret. 

The  doctor's  examination  of  Robert's  arm  showed  it  to  be  a  shot 
wound  of  a  severe  nature. 

"  A  compound  fracture,  and  gangrene  in  the  ragged  flesh," 
explained  Doctor  Clarendon,  thoughtfully  holding  the  hand  swollen 
to  twice  the  size  of  the  other.  "  Requires  immediate  attention. 
Cursed  be  the  fiend  that  pulled  a  trigger  on  this  helpless,  friend- 
less being  !  George,  who  will  go  for  my  surgical  case  and  medi- 
cines ?  My  horse  is  pretty  tired  to-night.  Cannoc  Paisley  take 
your  bay  and  the  buggy  .?  " 

'•Yes,  let  him  bring  back  Mrs.  Clarendon  as  if  she  were  sent  for 
to  pass  the  evening.  That  will  make  the  thing  all  right.  What  do 
you  say,  Buddington  .'*" 

"All  right,  doctor.  Whatever  is  wanting  for  this  poor,  suffering, 
wounded  fugitive,  shall  be  forthcoming.  Paisley  shall  soon  be  on 
the  way,  sir.  Do  your  best,  doctor,  and  make  out  your  bill  at  as 
high  a  figure  as  you  please,  and  draw  upon  me." 

''^ Mon  Dku !  George,  you  are  a  selfish  fellow!  Can't  you  allow 
me  to  take  any  stock  in  the  'Golden  Rule?*  I  will  not  consent 
that  you  shall  reap  all  the  blessedness  in  Cloudspire.  Now,  mind, 
you  shall  not  pay  me  for  attending  this  wound,  neither  shall  any- 
body else.  I  have  been  thinking  lately  of  laying  up  a  little  treas- 
ure in  Heaven,  myself.  Now  Paisley,  slip  down  stairs,  out  to  the 
barn,  rig  up  the  bay  and  be  off.  I  invite  my  wife  to  return  for  an 
evening  visit.     Mind,  that  is  the  ostensible  cause  of  your  night  ride, 


49^  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

if  any  one  questions.     Make  a  nimble  trip,  and   don't   forget    the 


cases." 


When  the  sharp,  swift  beat  of  hoofs  on  the  hard  road  died  away, 
the  doctor  addressed  his  host. 

"  Buddington,  it  is  best  for  us  both  to  go  down  to  the  parlors, 
and  to  keep  this  evening's  party  pretty  lively,  as  if  nothing  else 
demanded  our  attention.  Some  of  Lucy's  good  angels  have  im- 
bued me  with  a  spirit  of  watchfulness  ;  you  know  the  house  is  sus- 
picioned.  Binah  and  Alfy  will  take  good  care  of  Robert ;  miad, 
you  two  keep  your  voices  low.  Here,  George,  let  Binah  go  down 
and  wait  in  the  dark  hall  for  a  roll  of  old  linen  for  bandages." 

"  I  ain't  sleep  tree  night,  wid  dis  arm,"  meekly  interposed 
Robert. 

"  Well,  well  ;  you  shall  sleep  to-night,  in  a  good  bed  too," 
answered  the  doctor. 

Ishmael's  bay  was  dashing  round  a  turn  in  the  road,  when  he 
was  accosted  from  a  wagon  halting  in  the  fork,  the  driver  appear- 
ing in  suspense. 

"  Halloo  !  stranger  !  " 

"Halloo!"  replied  Ishmael,  drawing  the  reins  and  thinking  to 
himself,  "how  merciful  is  darkness." 

"  Do  you  know  anything  about  a  runaway  nigger  in  these  parts  .^  " 

""No,  sir-ee,"  answered  Issy  gruffly.  "They  never  come  near 
me.  There's  a  few  of  the  black  cusses  in  town,  but  they're, too 
lazy  to  run  away.  They'd  better  try  it,  though,  a  great  sight,  for 
they  are  not  wanted  here." 

Two  horse  laughs  from  the  stranger's  halting  w^agon,  rolled  forth 
on  the  night. 

"I  swear  you're  the  rightdsort;  and  we  found  another  like  you, 
down  to  the  cavern  in  that  village,  back  apiece.  He's,  a  deacon. 
What's  his  name?     He  likes  a  drop  of  the  craythur." 

"Deacon  Steele,"  answered  Issy.  "  He's  an  especial  friend  of 
mine.  He's  true  blue.  A  staunch  supporter  of  the  South  and  the 
Constitution.     He's  a  pillar  in  the  church  where  I  belong." 

"  He's  a  damn'd  good  fellow  !  "  roared  from  the  wagon.  "  He 
treated  us  and  himself  to  the  best  liquors  the  old  tavern  afforded. 
He  said  he  believed  he'd  seen  the  damn'd  nigger  this  very  morn- 
ing, picking  potatoes  out  of  his  swill  barrel.     The  deacon  said  the 


WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK    JUNE.  499 

CUSS  looked  at  him  a  minnit.  like  a  scared  dog,  and  then  run  like 
a  hound.  It  was  so  dark  he  couldn't  tell  which  way  he  went.  ^  He 
thought  he  was  a  thief,  and  was  glad  to  get  red  of  him  so  easy." 

"  ff  the  deacon  hader  known  he  was  a  runaway,  he  would  have 
set  his  bull  dog  on  him,  and  caught  him  for  you.     Ha!  ha!  ha!" 

langhed  Issv. 

"Said  he'  would;  I  s'pose  he'd  help  us  hunt  now,  if  he  wasn't 
half  seas  over.     But  the  old  soaker  wouldn't  know  east  from  west 

by  this  time." 

"  Where  did  that  nigger  run  from?''  asked  Ishmael,  boldly. 

"From  Virginny,  that  infernal  border  State.  His  master  fol- 
lowed. Got  track  of  him,  a  little  this  side  of  New  York.  See  him 
as  plain  as  daylight  and  sent  a  charge  of  buck-shot  after  him,  for 
he  said  he'd  hev'  him,  dead  or  alive  ;  but  the  devil  scooted.  His 
master  hadn't  any  dog,  you  see." 

"  Where's  his  master  now  ?  "    asked  Ishmael. 

"  He  came  up  to  East  Elms  —  he's  a  waitin'  there.  We  are 
willin'  to  help  a  m.an  find  his  property.  Nobody  likes  to  lose 
what's  their  own.     This  nigger's  worth  twelve  hundred  dollars,  you 


see. 

"  He  ought  to  be  found ;  but,  as  for  me,  they  are  an  abomination, 
unless  I  could  harness  them  up  like  horses,  and  make  them  plough 
my  fields  ;  but  they're  neither  man  nor  beast,  and  I  should  hate 
devilishly  to  be  plagued  with  'em,"  roared  Issy,  with  as  much  brass 
in  his  voice  as  he  could  muster. 

"  That's  so  !     Where  does  this  road  lead  to  ?" 

"  Near  abouts  to  no  where,"  said  Ishmael.  "  No  nigger  nor  white 
man  would  follow  it,  in  the  daytime." 

"  Which  is  the  best  road,  friend  ?  "  * 

"  You  have  to  turn  about,  go  back  a  short  piece,  and  take  the 
right  hand  that  leads  into  the  great  stage  road  to  Canada.  You'd 
be  likely  to  find  him  traveling  that,  dark  nights.  I've  heard  say 
they  take  a  bee  line  for  Canada." 

''  I  swear,  friend,  you're  right ;  we'll  go." 

The  srind  of  turning  wheels  and  the  crack  of  the  whip  showed 
the  spies  to  be  in  earnest. 

"  You  have  my  best  wishes,  gentlemen,  good-night !  " 

Issy  had  sent  the  hunters  in  one  direction  and  the  impatient  bay 


500  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

bounded   on  in  another.     Every  stride  of  the  horses  increased  the 
distance  between  them. 

"  Ah !  what  have  I  done,"  thought  Issy.  "  Am  I  guilty  of 
a  crime  ?  " 

His  beating  heart  replied, — 

"  You  have  saved  Robert  !  " 

"  Be  it  so,"  thought  Ishmael,  '•  God  is  my  judge,  not  men." 

"  Issy,  why  drive  so  fast  this  dark  night  ?  "  inquired  Mrs.  Clar- 
endon,    "I  confess  I  am  afraid  of  Squire  Buddington's  horses." 

'•'Madam,  the  bay  is  safe  —  we  both  know  the  road;  the  ladies 
are  in  haste  to  see  you  ;  do  not  be  alarmed." 

Ishmael  related  to  Air.  Buddington  his  encounter  with  the  scouts, 
and  a  double  watch  was  set  upon  the  family  proceedings.  The 
doctor's  wife  w^as  missed  from  the  parlors  only  long  enough  to  look 
at  Robert,  and  leave  him  a  few  encouraging  words. 

Tea  and  refreshments  were  served  at  ten  o'clock,  in  the  dining- 
room,  where  all  might  be  seen  through  the  uncurtained  windows. 

Binah  was  left  with  Filette,  to  remain  up  stairs,  as  nurse  for 
Robert,  till  the  excitement  over  the  fugitive  might  cease.  The 
doctor  said,  '*  I  wdll  explain  to  the  curious,  that  I've  dosed  her 
into  bed,  for  inflammatory  rheumatism;  and  there  is  not  Christianity 
enough  in  the  town,  outside  of  our  circle,  to  impel  one  foot  towards 
her  room  ;  so  we  are  safe  enough  to  let  her  stay." 

When  the  lights  were  extinguished  for  the  night,  Mr.  Buddington 
and  his  wife  stole  up  to  Robert's  room. 

Binah  sat  by  the  suffering  man,  dropping  a  soothing  wash  upon 
the  splintered  arm. 

"  How  did  the  doctor  find  the  wound  ? "  asked  Filette. 

"Dreflul,  missis!  Doctor  say  it  may  hab  to  compitate,  'bove  de 
elbow ;  but  he  try  to  save  it." 

"  We  hope  he  can  save  it.  What  medicine  did  he  leave, 
Binah?" 

"  Dem  powder,  dere,  to  make  Bob  sleep  ;  he  dream,  missis  ! 
dream  dey  hunt  for  him  ;  he  say, — 

"  Dere  de  come  !  dere  de  come  !  "  Den  he  whisper,  ''  O  Jesus  ! 
where  I  hide.''  where  I  hide?" 

"  They  are  pursuing  him,  Binah  ;  they  may  come  here  ;  do  not 
let  Robert  know;  keep  the  door  locked  on  the  inside.     We  shall 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  50I 

want  you   to   stay  in  the  room,  days,  and  we  will  stay  with   him 

nights."  •      1      J  c 

"  Yes,  Binah,  we  must  all  be  dumb  at  our  work  in  the  day.  bo 
you  must  sleep  at  night,"  said  Mr.  Buddington.  "  I  will  stay  with 
our  poor  Robert  to-night.  You  go,  now,  with  Filette,  and  sleep 
the  rest  of  the  night.  One  thing  more.  Be  sure,  Binah,  that 
Roland  does  not  set  his  eyes  on  you.  Little  Roland  can't  equivo- 
cate ;  he  will  tell  all  he  knows." 

Turning  to  his  wife,  he  said  with  a  bitter  determination, — 
"When  we  rescue  a  human  being,  black  or  white,  from  a  blood- 
thirsty Southerner,  we  must  brandish  the  self-same  weapons  we 
find  in  their  hands.  When  the  slaveholder  or  his  minions  come  to 
my  door  and  ask  '  Where  is  my  slave  ? '  we  must  answer  boldly, 
'  Your  slave  is  not  here  ; '  for  no  man  can  hold  his  fellow-man  a 
slave.  If  he  asks,  '  Is  there  a  runaway  nigger  here  ? '  we  must  use 
a  decisive, 'iVb.^'  for,  in  our  creed,  there  are  no  niggers.  Now, 
good  night,  both  of-  you.  I  will  nurse  Robert  tenderly,  remember- 
ing all  night  a  lonely  grave  in  Inditviay 

"After    an   early   breakfast,   the  next  morning,    Mr.    Buddington 
stept  hastily  into  the  kitchen,  from  the  barn,  and  said, — 

"  Hester,  this  \^  your  time  to  be  on  your  guard.  That  tall,  black- 
gloved  Lappin,  that  was  on  the  last  committee  to  our  house,  has 
come  out  in  all  this  cold,  pouring  rain,  to  buy  hay  of  me.  I  di- 
rected Issy  to  show  him  the  hay,  and  sure  enough  he's  tramping 
all  over  the  mows,  and  pulling  it  up  in  every  corner,  pretending  to 
look  at  the  quality;  but  I  know  he's  looking  for  the  fugitive, 
Robert;  so  be  careful  !  I  will  speak  to  Filette." 

He  had  scarcely  closed  the  door,  when  Roland  bounded  into  the 

kitchen. 

"  Mother  !  has  there  been  a  ragged,  runaway  nigger,  here  ? 

"  Why,  child,  don't  you  see  all  the  people  that  come  here  1  Have 
you  seen  any  ragged  bodv  ?  " 

"  No,  mother  ;^but  that  man  says  I  must  tell  him  if  there's  a  run- 
away slave  here  ;  and,  mother,  he  says  if  I  tell  him,  he'll  give  me 
two  dollars." 

He  asked  Issy,  and  Issy  said, —  .      . 

"  Mrs.  Buddington  never  had  any  tramps  in  her  house,  bringing 

in  filth  and  diseases." 


502  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

Issy  laughed  when  he  said,  ''  Mrs.  Buddington  is  a  very  nice  lady, 


sir." 


"  What  makes  you  so  wet,  child  ?     Where  have  you  been  ? " 

''jMr.  Lappin  kept  me  out  there  by  the  gate,  in  the  rain;  he 
wants  you  to  go  out  there.  He  is  going  to  tell  you  how  you  can 
make  some  money." 

"  Good  gracious,  child  !  I  can't  go  out  there  in  this  shower.  Tell 
him  I  am  alone  in  the  kitchen  ;  he  can  come  in  by  the  fire  and 
dry  himself." 

Out  skipped  Roland  with  a  whoop,  singing  out, — 

"  Red  candy,"  "White  candy,"  "  Yellow  candy."  "Peppermints- 
mints,"  "  Sugar-horse,"  "  Sugar-rooster  !  " 

"  I  guess  you  are  thinking  about  the  money  your  mother  can 
make,  aren't  you  ?  "  coaxingly  lisped  Mr.  Lappin. 

"  Yes,  sir-r-r-r !  I  be,"  hopping  up  to  his  imaginary  benefactor 
on  one  foot;  '*'  mother  wants  you  to  come  into  the  kitchen  —  she's 
all  alone." 

Mr.  Lappin  moved  towards  the  house  and  in  at  the  door,  like  a 
gaunt  shadow  of  evil ;  before  sitting,  he  rolled  a  pair  of  searching 
eyes  towards  every  door  of  the  apartment,  saying  with  a  simpering 
chuckle, — 

"  We  are  all  alone,  Hester  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  am  always  alone  at  this  time  in  the  morning.  The 
rest  are  busy  about  their  own  affairs." 

"  Well,  I've  got  a  little  business  on  hand,  and  I  thought  you 
might  help  me  and  yourself,  too.  You  have  heard  about  that  run- 
away slave  from  Virginny,  of  course." 

"How  should  I  hear?  I  never  go  out  to  hear  anything.  The 
neighbors  have  all  cut  our  acquaintance  ;  they  won't  even  let  us  go 
to  church  ;  how  should  I  hear?" 

"  Of  course,  you  will  deny  all  about  it ;  but  when  I  tell  you  the 
whole,  you  may  change  vour  tune." 

"  You  see,  Hester,  I've  just  moved  over  next  to  Deacon  Steele's, 
and  I  think  he's  a  man  that  loves  his  neighbor  as  himself  ;  just 
about  sunrise  he  come  over  to  my  house,  and  told  me  to  look  out 
for  a  thieving  nisrsrer  that  he  found,  earlv  that  mornino^,  eatins;  out 
of  his  swall  barrel.  You  see,  there  was  a  hard  frost,  the  night 
afore,  and  I  thought  I'd  track  him  and  see  if  he  was  hanging  round 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  503 

our  place.  I  went  down  to  the  deacon's,  and  I  tracked  him  to  the 
rail  fence  out  east  ;  I  knew  he  got  over  there>  for  some  of  his 
rags  was  picked  off  there,  on  the  sharp  spUnters  on  the  top  rail. 
I  went  on  down  into  the  muddy  bottom,  and,  sure  enough,  there 
was  great  barefooted  tracks  in  the  mud  that  side,  and  on  the  other 
too,  where  he  jnmped  over.  He  was  a  runnin',  I  knew  by  the 
long  steps  and  the  deep  tracks  in  the  soft  mud,  and  I  knew  it  was 
him  —  for  nobody  here  goes  barefooted  this  weather.  I  didn't 
think  anything  about  it,  only  I  was  glad  he'd  cleared  out  from  our 
part  of  the  town. 

"Last  night,"  he  went  on,  "  after  we'd  all  gone  to  bed,  two  fel- 
lows waked  us  up  and  asked  if  we'd  seen  anything  of  a  runaway 
nigger,  and  if  we  wanted  a  reward  of  a  hundred  dollars,  we'd  better 
look  him  up. 

"  I  didn't  say  anything  about  the  tracks,  for  fear  somebody  else 
would  find  him.  I  know  he  run  in  this  direction,  and  I  know  Bud- 
dington's  a  crazy  abolitionist ;  so  I  started  early  in  the  rain  to  find 
out ;  now,  you're  poor  and  never  had  any  money,  I'll  give  you 
twenty-five  dollars  out  of  the  hundred,  if  you'll  tell  me  if  he's 
here." 

"Mr.  Lappin,  I  see  every  person  that  comes  into  that  kitchen 
door.  I'm  up  first  in  the  morning,  ai^d  I  lock  the  doors  at  night, 
and  I've  never  seen  such  a  person  as  you  describe,  here.  Mrs. 
Buddington  is  particular, —  she  don't  have  old  shacks  about  here,  I 
can  tell  you.  He  may  have  got  into  the  hay  in  the  barn,  but 
Roland's  out  there  every  day  for  hen's  nests  —  he  would  have 
hauled  him  out  in  quick  metre." 

"Oh  !  I've  looked  the  hay  all  over  myself,"  he  replied,  in  a  low 
tone  of  disappointment. 

Mr.  Buddington  entered  the  kitchen,  saying  cordially, — 

"  I  am  very  glad,  Mr.  Lappin,  you  have  come  to-day.  Better 
stay  until  the  rain  holds  up." 

"  No,  Mr.  Buddington,  he  did  not  come  in  to  dry  himself,"  inter- 
posed Hester.  "I'll  tell  you  when  I'done  laughing,"  holding  her 
sides  and  bending  over  the  sink.     "  Oh  !  my  !  it's  too  good  !  '' 

After  catching  her  breath  and  drying  her  eyes,  she  continued, — 

"Mr.  Lappin's  hunting  a  nigger — somebody's  slave  —  I  never 
saw  a  slave  in  my  life  ;  he'll  get  a  hundred  dollars  for  him  —  when 


504.  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

he  finds  Jiim.     Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  keep  an  eye  on  7nc  and  Roland,  sir  — 
please, —  he'll  be  lugging  us  off  !  " 

"If  you  want  twenty  live  dollars,  sir,  Mr.  Lappin  will  give  it  to 
you,  to  tell  where  his  game  is." 

There  was  no  time  for  an  answer  from  Mr.  Buddington,  for  his 
visitor  rose,  white  with  rage,  and  denounced  Hester. 

"What  that  girl  says,  friend  Buddington,  is  a  falsehood,  blacker 
than  her  color. 

"  She  has  fabricated  every  word.  I  came  over  to  buy  hay,  as 
the  weather  was  lowering,  and  I  could  not  work  out.  I  am  a  mem- 
ber of  the  church  of  Christ,  and  I  strive  to  live  according  to  its 
precepts.  Mr.  Buddington,  I  am  a  man  of  truth.  That  girl  is  a 
specimen  of  her  corrupt  race.  The  blacks  are  incapable  of  moral 
sentiments  or  religious  convictions.  She  has  brought  up  her  boy 
to  confirm  all  her  falsehoods.  Reports  throughout  the  town  con- 
firm my  words.  Mr.  Buddington,  I  came  here  to  purchase  hay,  sir. 
I  have  examined  it.  I  find  the  quality  good,  but  I  find  the  price 
higher  than  I  expected.     I  cannot  engage  to  take  it." 

"  As  you  please,  Mr.  Lappin,"  mildly  answered  George,  with 
queer  evidences  of  good  humor  lurking  in  the  corners  of  his  eyes. 

"  May  I  ask  if  I  am  exonerated,  in  your  mind,  from  the  infamous 
charges  of  your  servant .?  " 

'•  It  makes  very  little  difference,  as  to  my  opinion  ;  your  own 
conscience  will  be  the  best  approval.  I  have  business  to-day,  Mr. 
Lappin,  and  will  bid  you  'good-morning.'" 

Hester's  pitiless  laugh  fiew  after  him  at  the  open  door  ;  the 
javelin  of  her  voice  passed  through  it  to  his  wagon. 

"Good-morning,  Mr.  Lappin.  Call  again!  do,  and  bring  your 
conscience  with  you,  do  !  " 

Robert,  carefully  guarded  from  alarm,  knew  nothing  of  the  keen 
pursuit  after  him  in  the  secrecy  of  his  room.  The  doctor  adminis- 
tered to  him  daily,  seeking  various  pretences  to  avoid  the  suspicion 
of  those  on  the  alert. 

Sometimes  he  brought  Lucy  to  spend  the  day,  and  came  for  her 
the  next  morning.     Sometimes  he  went  under  cover  of  night. 

The  flutter  over  the  escaped  fugitive  and  the  "  one  hundred 
dollars*'  reward,  merged  into  agitation  respecting  Binah's  inflam- 
matory rheumatism. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  505 

Cloudspire  had  nothing  remarkable  in  it  but  its  religion. 

That  being  frozen  to  adamant  in  its  original  mould,  admitted  no 
variation  or  speculation  ;  therefore,  affairs  outside  of  that,  of  not 
a  feathers  weight,  became  ponderous  in  the  meditations  of  the 
people.  The  opening  of  a  neighbor's  door  or  blind,  which  was 
usually  closed,  offered  an  inexhaustible  source  of  conjecture  and 
conversation. 

Binah's  inflammatory  rheumatism  set  the  town  agog.  The  doc- 
tor was  plied  with  interminable  questions  ;  and  the  general  conclu- 
sions were  that  "  Them  Southern  slaves  should  never  come  into 
the  North,  but  should  stay  where  they  were." 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THANKSGIVING,  the  annual  New  England  festival  so  dear 
to  her  children,  was  in  near  prospect. 

Two  days  before,  the  rich  "  Drovier "  and  Thad  returned  to 
Cloudspire  with  as  handsome  a  lot  of  cattle  and  horses  as  ever  was 
seen  ;  so  the  farmers  said,  who  caught  sight  of  them  from  their 
fields  and  yards,  as  they  passed. 

Filette,  Mary  and  Hester,  worked  days  together  in  their  cheerful 
kitchen,  to  prepare  for  the  revered  holiday.  Cupboard  and  larder 
brimmed  over  with  dainties,  in  waiting  for  the  expected  assem- 
blage of  rare  and  tried  friends,  whose  voices  were  ever  uplifted  for 
the  oppressed,  and  who,  like  themselves,  suffered  the  persecution 
and  isolation  of  the  true  Reformer. 

Alfy  rode  "Uncle  Ned"  over  to  Mr.  Link's  fanii  to  welcome 
Thad,  after  his  wonderful  travels,  and  to  carry  the  command  that 
both  must  present  themselves  at  Uncle  George's  the  next  day  at  an 
early  hour. 

"  Come  out  to  the  barn,  and  see  our  fine  cattle  and  horses," 
urged  Thad.  "  There's  bays,  and  blacks,  and  chestnuts,  and  grays; 
and  I'll  show  you  something  that'll  make  you  want  to  be  a  drover 
too,  Alf." 

He  led  his  wondering  brother  through  the  yard  of  prancing 
creatures,  commenting   with    a  business    air,  upon  their  points    of 


5o6  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

beauty  and  value,  and  reassuring  Alfy,  who  appeared  uneasy  with 
fear  amidst  their  wild  play. 

"Never  mind,  Alf,  they  know  my  voice  and  the  proper  place  for 
their  heels.  Hey !  there,  you  black  Beltshazzar  !  shall  I  crack 
this  whip?  your  shoes  shine  well  in  the  sun,  they're  all  right. 
Take  care,  sir,  you  needn't  show  your  shoes  again.  Come  into 
the  stable,  Alf." 

He  led  out  from  his  nice  quarters,  knee-deep  in  clean  straw 
bedding,  a  plump,  round,  dapple  gray  pony  with  snow-white  mane 
and  tail. 

"  Oh,  Thad  !  how  pretty  !  "  exclaimed  Alfy,  eagerly. 

"  I  think  so,  too  ;  its  the  general  opinion." 

"What's  his  name,  Thad?" 

"  His  name  is  '  Silver,'  Alfy.  '  Silver  '  is  mine,  my  own.  Mr. 
Link  bought  him  for  me ;  and  I  have  a  new  saddle  with  my  name 
upon  it.     Little  nicer  than  old  Ned,  hey,  Alf?" 

"  Silver  may  be  nicer  now,  but  he  must  grow  old  sometime  ;  I 
love  old  Ned.  He's  fat  as  a  seal.  I  comb  and  brush  him  every 
day.     Come  out  and  see  him." 

They  walked  on  together,  chatting  about  Thad's  trip  to  the 
West. 

"  Is  that  '  Ned  ? '  "  asked  Thad,  with  surprise  ;  "  he  has  grown 
handsome,  under  your  care  and  Uncle  George's.  Ned  shnes  like 
silk,     A  new  blanket !     He  has  fallen  into  a  good  home." 

"  Everybody  falls  into  a  good  home  that  goes  to  Uncle 
George's.  Oh,  Thad,  I  have  somethtng  nice  to  tell  you  to-mor- 
row." 

"  I  shall  listen  to  every  word,  Alf.  Then,  I  hav^e  something 
ugly  to  tell  you  and  the  folks.  What's  going  to  be  there  to- 
morrow ?  " 

**  Lots  of  friends.  The  doctor  and  his  wife,  and  Lucy,  Richard 
Beame,  Fanny  and  her  beau,  Mr.  Sterlingworth,  Mrs.  Beame, 
Susan  Hughes,  and  the  children.  There  will  be  —  I  forgot  — 
JNIr.  and  Mrs.  Glenly,  from  West  Elms,  their  two  daughters,  and 
one  son  ;  that  makes  eighteen  with  you  and  Mr.  Link  ;  then  there's 
seven  of  us." 

"  That  makes  twenty-five.     That'll  do  for  a  lively  time." 

"  Well,  Thad,  there's  one  more  to  make  twenty-six,  but  I  shan't 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  507 

telh  who,  till  you  see  him.  Ride  over  with  me,  Thad,  on  *  Silver,' 
and  see  mother." 

"  Can't  go,  now,  Alfy.  Mr.  Link  is  away  for  a  few  hours,  and 
left  the  yard  to  me ;  but,  tell  mother  we'll  be  there  early  to-morrow. 
Mind,  Alfy,  don't  mention  my  pony,  '  Silver.'  I  want  to  give 
them  a  surprise." 

Thanksgiving  day  arrived,  cold  and  clear  ;  every  kind  of  vehicle 
rumbled  over  the  frozen  ground,  carrying  every  variety  of  human 
freight,  from  toddling  children  and  third  cousins,  to  the  gray-haired 
grand-parents. 

The  two  parlors  of  Mr.  Buddington's  house  were  well  warmed 
and  cheerful  from  the  flood  of  gladsome  sunlight  which  poured 
into  the  long  south  windows,  and  lighted  up  the  crimson  and  purple 
confusion  of  easy-chairs,  tetc-a-ietes  and  lounges,  with  flaming'  touches. 

At  ten  o'clock,  Filette  and  Mary  took  seats  in  the  pleasant 
rooms  with  the  family. 

"  There,"  said  one  to  the  other,  "  the  work  is  all  out  of  the  way  \ 
we  have  nothing  to  do,  but  enjoy  the  occasion." 

"Yes,  Filette,  we  shall  have  a  long  festival ;  amidst  the  crowd- 
ing cares  and  anxieties*  which  life  brings,  we  should  make  the 
most  of  these  rare  intervals  of  happy  rest." 

She  turned  a  mother's  glance  down  the  brown  road  between 
leafless  branches,  and  exclaimed, — 

"Somebody  is  coming;  let's  see!  a  man  in  a  wagon  and  some 
one  riding  a  white  horse  follows." 

"  Why,  that's  Mr.  Link,"  said  Filette ;  "  the  other  is  Thad,  on  a 
silver-gray  pony,  with  a  new  saddle  and  a  silver-mounted  bridle  ; 
do  look,  Filette,  at  the  gay  tassels  flying  below  the  pony's  ears. 
What  does  it  all  mean .''  Thad  looks  brown  and  plump ;  he  rides 
like  a  major." 

"  Dear  Mary,  I  can  guess  what  it  all  means.  Mr.  Link  is  rich 
and  he  has  nobody  to  love ;  he  has  taken  an  attachment  for  Thad, 
and  likes  to  see  him  happy." 

A  moment  more,  and  Thad,  throwing  the  rein  to  Alfy,  rushed 
into  the  parlor. 

"  Here's  your  drover-boy,  mother  !     Give  rae  '  How  de'e.'  " 

Mary  held  him  proudly  to  her  heart,  and  murmured  abstract- 
edly,— 


5o8  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"So  my  boy  has  come  back  alive  !  "  while  a  few  tears,  the  exha- 
lations of  her  never-forgotten  sorrow,  fell  upon  his  head. 

"Why  shouldn't  I  come  back  alive,  mother.?  "  asked  Thad  with 
surprise. 

"  Sure  enough,"  answered  Filette  for  Mary.  "  Of  course  you 
would  come  back  alive  and  handsome,  too  ;  you  would  fly  back  on 
the  celestial  wings  of  youthful  hope,  if  by  no  other  means,  Thad. 

"  Oh  !  by  the  way,  how  is  it  that  you  ride  that  beauty  of  all  Mr. 
Link's  drove .? " 

"  Because  I  ride  my  own  horse,  Aunt  Filette.  '  Silver '  is  my  own ; 
my  name  is  on  the  saddle  and  bridle." 

"So,  so  !  you  have  made  a  fine  start  in  the  world,"  she  replied, 
gayly. 

"  Come  out  and  see  him,  both  of  you  ;  come  " 

"  Mrs.  Buddington,  how  pleasant  your  rooms  are.  Life  seems 
to  be  worth  something,  here,"  said  Mr.  Link,  taking  the  arm-chair 
offered  him. 

"They  lack  the  very  aroma  of  happiness  which  will  pervade 
these  parlors  when  all  our  guests  arrive ;  for,  to  me,  nothing  is  so 
dear  on  earth,  as  the  interchange  of  the  i^itq  and  lofty  thoughts  of 
kindred  spirits  ;  to-day,  we  are  all  to  be  kindred  spirits.  Such 
converse  is  sweeter  to  me  than  sunshine  or  flowers." 

"  How  many  times  have  you  all  been  to  church  since  I  went 
away  ?  "  broke  in  Thad. 

"Roland  and  his  mother  and  I  have  been  once,"  laughingly  an- 
swered Ishmael. 

"Why  did  you  not  go  oftener?  why  didn't  you  go  and  sit  on  the 
bare  ground  "^  "  asked  Thad,  with  a  comical  and  knowing  expression. 

"What  diO you  know  about  it.?  "  queried  Uncle  George. 

"  I  know  all  about  it —  I  was  there." 

"Where?"  asked  Alfy. 

"  I  was  there,  in  the  meeting-house  when  the  deed  v»^as  done." 

"  Let  us  hear  about  it,"  chimed  in  the  voices. 

"  Mr.  Link  and  I  started  that  day,  for  the  West.  When  we 
reached  West  Elms,  he  had  business  at  the  bank;  but,  taking  out 
his  pocket-book,  found  he  had  left  important  papers  at  home.  He 
told  me  to  jump  on  '  Thunderbolt's '  back  and  return  after  them.  I 
took  my  supper  at  home  and  got  back  as  far  as  the  meeting-house. 


WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  5O9 

about  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening.  It  was  very  dark ;  you  know 
there's  a  cross  road  that  leads  out  to  the  horse-sheds.  Well,  I 
suppose  'Thunderbolt'  thought  he  was  going  to  prayer-meeting, 
and  before  I  knew  it,  he  was  half  way  across  that  old  road.  All  of 
a  sudden,  he  shied  out.  I  looked  to  see  what  was  there  ;  for, 
when  he  shies,  there's  something  to  shy  at ;  there  were  two  buggies 
tied  there,  in  the  bushes,  and  one  old  wood-wagon.  I  didn't  see 
nor  hear  any  person,  so  I  said  to  myself,  I'd  see  what's  up. 

"  I  turned  back  into  the  traveled  road,  and  walked  '  Thunder- 
bolt '  on  the  turf,  round  into  the  dootor's  yard,  and  tied  him.  The 
doctor's  house  was  dark.  I  didn't  think  they  were  at  home ;  then 
I  went  over  to  the  green  and  listened  ;  there  seemed  to  be  some 
sort  of  sawing  and  cracking  of  boards  inside.  I  slipped  round  to 
the  door  and  peeped  in,  for  it  was  open.  It  was  dark,  there ;  but, 
as  I  stood  stili,  gleams  of  light  streamed  on  the  floor  boards  and 
upon  some  heaps  of  red  cloth  lying  in  the  aisle,  and  went  out  into 
the  darkness,  again.  Between  these  times,  I  crept  in  at  the  door 
and  around  a  side  aisle,  into  one  of  the  pews  near  the  sawing  and 
working.  There  were  four  men  talking  in  whispers  and  laughing 
under  their  breath.  They  were  in  your  pew.  Uncle  George,  taking 
out  the  seats  and  pulling  up  the  floor." 

"  '  Mr.  Lappin,'  said  one,  '  we're  making  a  good  stable  for  them 
niggers,  with  a  ground  floor.  Willaim  Steele  said  they  are  no  bet- 
ter'n  beasts,  and  I  believe  it.'" 

"  '  Well,  Sam,  they've  got  no  intellects,  and  can't  understand  the 
mysteries  of  the  '  Godhead,'  said  another. 

" '  I  hear  they're  bought  and  sold  South  with  the  cattle,'  answered 
other. 

'"That's  the  way  they  ought  to  be,'  said  a  coarse  voice. 
'Where's  these  things  all  a  goin'  ?' 

"  '  They're  going  to  Deacon  Steele's,'  answered  the  other.  '  He 
sent  me  with  the  old  wood  wagon  to  carry  'em  ovar  there.  He's 
the  principal  church-business  man  in  this  town,  ain't  he  ? ' 

"  '  He's  going  to  put  'em  in  his  garret,  and  when  this  abolition- 
ism's played  out,  he's  going  to  put  the  pew  back  again,'  answered 
Lappin. 

"  '  Going  to  carry  planks,  and  all  ? '  asked  the  coarse  voice. 
Them's  the  orders,'  answered  Sam. 


((  ( 


510  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

"'Here's  the  last  damned  plank  of  the  nigger  pew,'  said  the 
coarse  voice. 

"  '  Dont  swear,  Lem,  in  the  church  of  the  Lord,'  begged  a  smooth 
voice,  and  I  knew  in  a  minute  Z//^/ ^;/6' was  Deacon  Assen's  son, 
"  Thode,"  the  one  that's  studying  for  the  ministry  down  to  Andover. 
Mr.  Link  showed  him  to  me  one  day.' 

"  '  Consistency,   thou  art  a  jewel,'  "  remarked  Mr.   Buddington. 
Upon  which   commentary   a  chorus   of  derisive    laughter    rippled 
forth. 

"Who  is  that  Lem,  Mr.  Link?" 

"It's  Lem  Hamm.  You  know  him;  he  wears  a  tarpaulin,  and 
rings  in  his  ears.  He's  an  old  salt.  Some  folks  say  he  used  to  go 
on  the  slave  ships  to  Africa,  for  cargoes  of  slaves.  He's  a  hard 
fellow." 

"  How  did  you  get  out,  Thad  ? "  asked  Alfy. 

"  That  light  they  had  was  a  dark  lantern.  They  extinguished  it 
when  they  finished  sawing.  So  I  crept  out  softly,  and  stayed  out- 
side till  1  saw  them  carry  away   cushions,  seats,  floor  arid  ally 

"  The  last  thing  I  heard,  was  that  rough  *  Lem  '  swearing, — 

"  '  Damn  the  niggers ;  I'd  like  to  hang  them  all  up  to  these  trees, 
around  this  church,  and  them  Buddingtons  with  'em.  If  they'll  set 
in  church  together,  let  'em  hang  together.' " 

"That  young  minister  was  saying, — 

"  '  Take  care,  Lem,  you  are  all  going  to  have  a  supper  at  Deacon 
Steele's.     Don't  swear  there.' 

"Lem  answered, — 

"  '  I'll  swear,  if  he  don't  bring  on  the  liquor  and  give  us  all  some 
drinks.     This  night-work  is  d  —  d  hard.' 

"  *  You'll  get  all  you  want,  there,'  said  Mr.  Lappin.  '  The 
deacon  keeps  all  kinds.' 

"  Nev^er  mind  now,  Thad,  there's  Mr.  Glenly  and  his  family,  and 
Fanny  Beame,  and  Mrs.  Beame,  bringing  Susan  and  her  children." 

After  the  affectionate  greetings  were  over,  Uncle  George  took 
Richard,  Mr.  Sterlingworth  and  Mr.  Link,  up  to  the  curtained 
room  where  Robert  was  slowly  convalescing. 

The  half  curtains  afforded  a  view  of  squares  of  the  bright,  blue 
sky,  the  delicate  tracery  of  leafless  tree  tips,  and  the  scalloped 
lines  of  distant  hills.     Alfy,  Robert's  faithful   attendant,   had  fes- 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  5^^ 

tooned  the  room  with  evergreen  ground  pine,  brought  surrepti- 
tioLiily  from  the  woods  ;  a  blazing  fire  crackled  on  the  hearth,  mvit- 
ing  the  company  to  tarry. 

The  circumstances  of  his  escape  from  bondage,  and  discovery 

were  recounted. 

'•  Robert  will  never  use  that  arm  and  hand  for  labor,  said  tne 
doctor,  who  followed  them  up.  "  Robert  is  maimed  for  life.  He 
is  the  victim  of  our  laws  ;  by  their  behest,  he  is  hainted  like  the 
beasts,  with  dogs  and  guns."  ^ 

"  This,"  continued  Mr.  Glenly,  "  is  the  protection  afforded  by  a 
government,  instituted  to  secure  'certain  inalienable  rights,  with 
which  men  are  endowed  by  their  Creator,  such  as  life,  liberty,  and 
the  pursuit  of  happiness.'" 

"  Yes,  further,"  continued  Mr.  Sterlingworth,  "  this  disabled  man 
is  the  fruit  of  a  Constitution,. ordained  to  'establish  justice,  insure 
domestic  tranquility,  and  promote  the  general  welfare.'  " 

"The  whole  thing,  laws,  constitution  and  government,  are  a 
biting  satire  upon  American  liberty."  ^ 

"  The  church  may  be  added  to  the  hypocritical  list,  ^  suggested 
Richard  Beame, '' for  this  hunting,  shooting  and  maiming,  is  the 
prero<^ative  of  the  self-styled  followers  of  Christ.  The  Northern 
churches  are  but  the  whippers-in  of  the  panting,  footsore  fugitive, 
.  who  seeks  in  another  country  the  '  life,^  liberty,  and  pursuit  of 
happiness,'  promised  all  mankind  in  ours." 

"As  for  that  matter,"  pursued  Mr.  Buddington,  « they  are 
whippers-in  of  all  those  who  protect  or  defend,  by  word  or  deed, 
him  who  flees  from  the  thumb-screw,  the  overseer's  lash,  or  the 
auction-room.     You   and  I  have  had  sufficient  experience  in   that, 

Richard."  .        .     ^  -k^     r^^     ^ 

"  How  long  shall  you  keep  Robert  here  ?  inquired  Mr.  Glenly. 
"You  know  Benjamin  Lundy  said,  'Philanthropists  are  the 
slowest  creatures  breathing.  They  think  forty  times  before  they 
act.'  I  think  it  would  be  well  in  this  case,  to  think  many  times 
less.  The  reward  is  still  out,  and  your  house  is  suspected.  Doc- 
tor, how  about  this  arm  for  traveling  ?  " 

"  Oh  I  as  to  that,  Robert  is  beyond  danger  now.  A  few  weeks 
of  rest,  and  the  care  which  he'll  know  how  to  administer,  is  all  that 
is  required." 


512  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  I  think  he  should  be  on  the  road  to  Canada,  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible," remarked  Mr.  Sterlingworth.  "  The  weather  is  growing 
cold,  and  one  small  incident  may  jeopardize  his  safety." 

The  silence  of  regret  that  followed  showed  how  deeply  Robert's 
sorrows  were  interwoven  with  the  sympathies  of  his  rescuers. 
Alfy's  living  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  would  not  leave  tlie  dark 
face  of  his  friend. 

Mr.  Buddington  looked  gravely  abstracted,  and  the  doctor  spoke 
with  unusual  feeling. 

"I  don't  like  to  lose  my  patient.  My  profession  never  before 
yielded  the  pleasure  experienced  in  his  attendance." 

"Let  me  help  you  out,"  said  Mr.  Link.  "I  go  to  Canada  a 
good  deal  on  business.  I  know  the  route  and  the  stopping  places 
on  it.  I  know  people  there  with  kind  hearts.  I  know  stables 
where  I  can  get  Robert  a  comfortable  place  to  earn  a  living,  with 
one  hand,  and  a  part  of  another.  George,  you  have  done  enough. 
Let  me  bear  a  part  of  the  burden." 

"  When  can  you  go  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Glenly. 

"Any  time  you  say.  Has  he  warm  clothes,  George?  that's  a 
cold  country,  and  it's  a  long  ride." 

"I  should  say  to-night,"  said  Mr.  Sterlingworth.  "The  journey 
must  be  made  in  the  night.  Robert,  have  you  brought  along  your 
wages  for  all  these  years  of  work  in  the  sunny  South  ?  Have  you 
any  money  ? " 

"No,  sir;  I  got  nothin' !  " 

"No  money,  and  not  even  a  name,  I  suppose." 

"  I  is  '  Bob,'  sir." 

Mr.  Sterlingworth  paced  the  floor  and  replied, — 

"What  can  be  more  abject?  Who  could  be  more  robbed  and 
bruised  along  life's  wayside,  than  he  ?  A  sharp  heart- ache  springs 
up,  when  I  see  such  robbery,  and  think  of  the  two  and  a  half  or 
three  millions  groaning  in  the  same  condition.  Gentlemen,  let  us 
act  the  Samaritan's  part." 

_  "  Alfy,"  said  Mr.  Buddington,  "  carry  round  the  hat ;  "  offering 
his  own.  "The  churchesd  rop  their  offering  to-day,  to  the  God  ot 
the  American  Constitution  ;  let  us  make  offerings  to  the  God  of 
the  friendless." 

"Your  remark,  Mr.  Buddington,  reminds   me  of   the   words   of 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  513 

Wendell  Phillips  at  the  meeting  in  Fanueil  Hall,  last  month,  in 
behalf  of  the  slave,  Latimer.  You  may  have  read  it  in  the  Libera- 
tor, but  it  will  bear  repeating,  and  inscribing  upon  the  register  of 
memory.     In  the  midst  of  a  shouting  and  hissing  mob,  he  said,— 

"'  When  I  look  upon  these  crowded  thousands  and  see  them  trample 
upon  their  consciences  and  the  rights  of  their  fellow-men,  at  the  bidding 
of  a  piece  of  parchment;  I  say,  My  curse  be  upon  the  Constitu- 
tion OF  THE  United  States.'  " 

Alfy  went  round  with  the  hat  and  returued  to  Uncle  George. 

"  Deliver  it  to  Mr.  Glenly,"  he  said,  "  as  treasurer.^^  Now  go 
down  and  ask  the  ladies  to  give  a  good  Samaritan  purse." 

His  swift  feet  soon  returned  to  the  chamber,  holding  up  a  purse 
knitted  of  bright  purple  and  crimson  silk,  sprinkled  with  stars  of 
gilt  beads  and  hung  with  heavy  tassels  of  the  same.  Two  rings  of 
gold  encircled  it,  and  on  one  was  engraved,  "Lucy." 

'•There,  Robert,  that  is  yours!"  approaching  him,  nearly 
choked  with  joy.    '"That  is  yours,  from   Miss   Lucy." 

A  happy  look  o'erspread   Robert's  face   and  frightened  brown 

eyes. 

"  No,  Marse  Alfy,  too  fine  for  I."  ^   _ 

While  the  two,  alike  in  simple  childish  natures,  were  examining 
the  beautiful  object,  the  gentlemen  laid  plans  for  further  flight. 
Mr.  Link  offered  to  go  himself,  that  very  night,  for  Canada. 

"  If  anybody  wishes  to  overtake  '  Thunderbolt,'  they  will  ride 
faster  than  is  common  in  these  parts." 

"  Your  horse  may  be  tired,  Mr.  Link,  take  my  bay, "  offered  Mr. 

Buddington..  * 

"Oh,  no,  we  travel  slow  with  a  drove,  and  he  s  had  two  days 
rest.  ''Thunderbolt '  knows  my  voice  and  my  hand  on  the  rein. 
His   resolute   shoulders   will    butt  away   darkness,    distance,    and 

fear  " 

Is'sv  offered  his  help  in  the  care  of  Mr.  Link's  yards,  and  would 
stay  with  Thad  till  Mr.  Link  returned.  He  also  insisted  upon 
putting  ten  dollars  in  the  Samaritan  purse,  saying,— 

"My  father  in    Charleston   furnishes  me    more  money  than   I 

need  " 

So*  the  purse  was  filled,  and  the  hour  of   Robert's   departure   set 

at  eleven  o'clock  that  night. 


514  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"What  are  your  means  of  self-defense,  if  waylaid,  Mr.  Link? 
Robert  will  be  no  help,  you  see,"  queried  Mr.  Sterlingworth. 

"  My  friends,  I  rely  first,  upon  the  Supreme  Ruler  of  events  ; 
next,  upon  my  horse,  and  if  necessity  requires,  1  have  a  trusty 
brace  of  pistols  ;  a  drover  shouldn't   be  a  bad  shot." 

"  If  they  get  sight  of  your  charge,  and  you  escape,  those  Virgin 
ians  will  demand  the  Governor  of  jNIassachusetts  to  deliver  you 
up,  as  they  demanded  Governor  Seward  of  New  York  to  deliver 
up  the  three  men  in  the  schooner  '  Robert  Carter '  case  in  which  a 
slave,  '  Isaac,'  escaped  to  New  York  from  Norfolk.  These  Virgin- 
ians demanded  them  as  slaves-stealers,  even  after  Isaac  was 
seized  and  taken  to  Virginia  in  defiance  of  the  State  laws.  Woe 
be  to  you,  in  the  hands  of  these  Southern  desperadoes  !" 

Mr.  Link  replied, — 

"  I  think  I  should  be  safe  enough,  if  Governor  Davis  has  the 
back-bone  of  Governor  Seward  ;  and  if  he  had  not,  the  Massa- 
chusetts abolitionists  would  swarm,  as  they've  done  in  the  Latimer 
case 

"  The  Governor  of  Georgia,  also  demanded  of  the  Governor  of 
Maine,  the  captain  of  the  'Boston,'  homeward  bound  to  that  Slate, 
ns  a  fugitive  from  justice,  because  a  slave  secreted  himself  on  his 
vessel,  and  afterwards  escaped  to  Canada,"  said  Mr.  Glenly. 

"  And  you,  my  friend  Buddington,  if  those  blue-bloods  knew 
your  crime,  it  would  not  be  safe  for  you  to  go  to  the  barn,  nights, 
to  take  care  of  your  stock,  or  to  ride  home  belated,  after  dark. 
There  was  my  friend,  Isaac  Hopper,  a  Quaker,  suspected  of  har- 
boring a  fugitive.  He  was  knocked  down  on  the  street  by  an 
unknown  hand,  and  thus  laid  upon  his  bed  for  days.  Then  there's 
Arthur  Tappan  of  New  York,  a  well-known  abolitionist.  A  re- 
ward of  twenty  thousand  dollars  has  been  offered  for  him,  to  be 
delivered  on  the  levee  at  New  Orleans.  The  Charleston  Patriot 
adverted  to  it,  with  apparent  approbation. 

"  Why,  sir,  those  Southrons  are  blood-thirsty  aasassins !  Like 
savage  beasts  having  the  taste  of  blood  in  their  own  latitude,  they 
demand  the  delirious  draught  in  every  Northern  metropolis,  and  on 
every  acre  of  the  States." 

Filette  now  entered  the  room,  at  the  summons  of  her  husband. 

"  Robert  is  going  to  leave  us  to-night,"  he  said,  "  for  Canada ; 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  515 

he  must  be  warmly  clad.  How  shall  the  flannels  be  made  up 
for  him  ?  Can  you  ladies  constitute  yourselves  into  a  sewing 
society  and  finish  them  by  eight  o'clock  this  evening?  " 

"  I  am  sure  they  would  be  most  happy  ;  we  can  easily  accom- 
plish that  and  more,  which  will  be  necessary." 

She  laid  her  hand  on  Robert's  shoulder,  and  looking  into  his 
dark  face,  said  kindly, — 

"I  am  sorry  to  part  with  you  so  soon.  We  could  take  care  of  you 
much  longer,  could  we  not,  doctor  ? " 

"  With  all  our  hearts,  with  all  our  hearts ;  but  our  friends  here, 
advise  departure." 

"I  'fraid  dey  catch  me  here,  missis."  Robert's  face  beamed  with 
a  grateful  sense  of  Filette's  kindness.  "Mus'  go  to  Canada. 
'Spects  de  Queen  Victory  will  be  good  to  I,  like  you,  missis.  Dey 
say  she  let  we  be  free  dere,  missis." 

'*  Bless  the  queen's  dear  heart ;  she  will  be  good  to  all  such  as 
you,     Robert  will  be  free  there." 

"True,  Filette,"  responded  her  husband.  "This  country  is  ruled 
by  a  bit  of  parchment,  set  up  like  a  dumb  idol ;  we  might  as  well 
be  ruled  by  the  wooden  Juggernaut  of  pagan  India ;  but  you  must 
hasten.  Robert  has  no  warm  surtout  or  cloak,"  he  continued,  to 
the  gentlemen. 

Mr  Link  came  to  their  aid, — 

"  I  will  furnish  that.  I  bought  a  long  cloak  with  a  double  cape, 
especially  for  traveling  on  my  trips.  Allow  me,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Buddington,  to  give  it  to  our  wayfarer." 

Below,  Susan  insisted  upon  helping  Hester  about  the  dinner ; 
while  Susan's  children  and  Roland  made  the  house  and  grounds 
ring  again  with  boisterous  glee ;  ever  and  anon  stealing  into  the 
parlors,  to  whisper  something  wonderful  and  sweet  in  the  ear  of 
Miss  Fannie. 

Binah  would  stay  with  Robert,  and  talk  over  slave  times. 

When  the  gentlemen  were  gathered  into  the  busy  parlors,  'twas 
the  general  request  that  Mr.  Sterlingworth  should  give  them  an 
account  of  the  trial  of  George  Latimer,  claimed  a  slave,  in  Boston. 
Thad  and  Alfy  were  eager  listeners  to  the  story  of  his  master's 
(James  B.  Grey)  endeavor  to  recapture  him. 

"  Every  step,"    said    Friend  Sterlmgworth,  "  was  taken   by  the 


5l6  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

friends  of  justice  to  foil  the  slave  catchers ;  but  the  enslavers  and 
their  Northern  allies  make  the  laws.  A  writ  of  Habeas  Corpus  was 
sued  out  by  Latimer's  lawyers,  Samuel  E.  Sewall  and  Amos  jNIerrill. 
The  writ  was  set  aside ;  Chief  Justice  Shaw  and  the  court,  by 
United  States  authority,  gave  the  advantage  to  the  man-hunter, 
Grey,  that  he  could  claim  his  slave  in  any  State  whither  he  had 
fled,  and  take  him  back  to  bondage  \  time  was  also  given  the  mas- 
ter to  prove  his  ownership.  At  every  turn  in  Latimer's  behalf. 
Judge  Shaw  and  Boston's  City  Attorney,  flourished  United  States 
Statutes  in  our  faces,  till  the  slave  was  cast  into  jail,  in  the  custody 
of  Grey,  till  the  trial." 

"One  triumph  the  Abolitionists  gained,  however."  said  Mr. 
Glenly ;  "  they  secured  a  trial  by  jury." 

"They  did  so.  Charles  M.  Ellis  and  Samuel  E.  Sewall  handled 
the  case  vigorously.  Again,  Judge  Shaw  called  up  the  hideous 
spectre  of  the  '  Maryland  Prigg  case,'  and  Latimer  was  left  in 
Boston  jail." 

"I  suppose  the  excitement  rose  to  a  great  height.  The  indigna- 
tion meeting  at  Faeuil  Hall  was  thronged." 

"  About  four  thousand  pro  and  con.  The  minions  of  the  slave- 
ocracy  resolved  to  break  up  the  meeting.  Speakers  were  howled 
and  hissed  down,  and  their  voices  drowned  by  the  most  infernal 
tumult  man  is  capable  of  making." 

"  Remond  and  Fred  Douglass  could  not  be  heard  for  the  din  of 
schreeches  and  hisses." 

"  Samuel  E.  Sewall  presided  .''  "  asked  Richard  Beame. 

"  In  the  finest  and  most  dignified  manner,  Richard.  There  were 
letters  from  the  'old  man  eloquent,' Samuel  Hoar,  and  others; 
Wendell  Phillips  registered  his  curse  on  the  Constitution.  When 
Edmimd  Quincy  seconded  the  resolutions  of  Joshua  Leavitt,  he 
repeated  an  alphabet  which  the  ruffianism  of  Boston  must  remem- 
ber, and  which  will  frame  itself  into  resistless  denunciation  upon 
their  heads  hereafter." 

"  Can  you  give  us  a  few  of  his  sentiments  ?  "  asked  Lucy. 

"  I  can  give  you  some  of  his  words,  which  I  took  down  in  short- 
hand." Mr.  Sterlingworth  took  a  paper  from  his  pocket  diary,  and 
read:  "Of  the  fugitives  from  bondage,  Mr.  Quincy  said,  'He 
turns  his  face  to  tRe   North  Star,  which  he  had   been  falsely  told 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  517 

hung  over  a  land  of  liberty.  He  threads  the  forest,  he  hurries  by 
night  across  the  green  swamps,  he  lies  concealed  by  day  in  the 
tangled  cane-brake,  he  dares  the  treacherous  morass,  he  fords 
trivers,  he  scales  mountains;  but  he  shuns  the  face  of  Christian 
man,  as  his  deadliest  foe.  At  last,  he  reaches  the  Free  States  ;  but 
he  rests  not  from  his  pilgrimage  uiltil  he  has  taken  sanctuary  in  the 
very  birthplace  of  Liberty.  He  places  his  feet  on  our  hearthstone, 
and  demands  hospitality  and  protection.  And  with  what  reception 
met  this  demand  upon  the  humanity,  the  Christianity,  the  love  of 
liberty  of  Boston  ?  The  signal  for  the  chase  is  given  ;  the  immor- 
tal game  is  on  foot ;  a  pack  of  bloodhounds,  in  human  shape,  is 
put  upon  the  scent  ;  they  pursue,  seize,  and  hold  him  down,  with 
the  oppressor  himself,  for  the  master  of  the  hunt,  and  the  second 
judicial  magistrate  in  the  nation,  for  whipper-in.  Your  police 
officers  and  jailors  under  the  compulsion  of  no  law,  are  the  volun- 
tary partakers  of  this  hideous  chase  ;  and  your  streets  and  your 
prisons  form  the  hunting-ground,  on  which  the  quarry  is  run  down 
and  secured.' 

''  To  the  ruffianism  of  the  North,  that  is  the  alphabet  of  an  un- 
known tongue.  Its  real  interpretaton  may  be  found  for  them, 
hereafter." 

"  The  Northern  conscience  feels  nothing  but  the  Southerner's 
slave-chain  which  binds  it,"  observed  Mary. 

"  What  became  of  Latimer  .?  "  asked  Alfy,  whose  sympathies  led 
him  directly  to  the  desired  result. 

"  He  was  finally  bought,  my  son,  for  four  hundred  dollars  ;  thus 
Boston,  recreant  to  justice  and  humanity,  became  a  partner  with 
slaveholders.  Bought  what  James  B.  Grey  had  to  sell  —  a  human 
being  !  She  made  her  streets  the  auction  ground  of  man,  to  the 
highest  bidder." 

During  the  relation,  Alfy  drew  his  chair  very  close  to  Friend 
Sterlingworth,  often  turning  his  troubled  blue  eyes  intently  upon 
him.  Thad,  equally  interested  but  ever  conservative,  changed  his 
seat  to  the  other  end  of  the  Friend's  sofa.     He  now  inquired, — 

"  Are  there  no  kind-hearted  people  in  the  South  ?  are  they  all 
given  over  to  deeds  of  cruelty  ? "  A  latent  tone  of  sarcasm  colored 
both  questions. 

A  rapid  smile  ran  round  the  party. 


5l8  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"Never  mind,  Thad,"  spoke  Mr.  Glenly's  youngest  daughter, 
Ida,  whose  Southern  proclivities  we  have  before  seen,  "  I  often  ask 
that  question  myself.  Thank  you  for  the  thread  and  scissors, 
Fanny." 

Fanny  passed  them  with  a  grave,  reproving  smile. 

Friend  Sterlingworth  replied  in  his  usual  calm  manner. 

"  There  are  many  men  and  women  in  the  South,  who  might 
heed  the  claims  of  justice  and  humanity,  if  they  were  free  from  the 
yoke  which  slavery  imposes  upon  the  white  masters,  as  well  as 
upon  their  slaves.  The  necessity  in  efforts  to  enslave  human 
beings,  by  natnral  right  the  equals  of  ourselves,  is  a  hardening 
process.  The  horrible  system  is  mainained  at  the  expense  of 
every  noble  aud  godlike  instinct  of  the  human  soul." 

"it  is  a  natural  law,  that  water  cannot  rise  higher  than  its 
source,"  interposed  Lucy.  "I  think  the  same  law  applies  to  mind. 
The  heartless  and  brutal  slave  laws  of  the  Southerner  must  spring 
from  a  debased  and  brutal  source.  They  cannot  flow  from  natures 
imbued  with  pure  and  exalted  impulses." 

"And  yet,"  said  Mr.  Glenly,  **' there  are  those  who  yield  to  the 
dictates  of  conscience,  and  come  out  from  the  mass  of  corruption 
about  them ;  such  as  J.  D.  Palfrey,  who  inherited  slaves  in  Louisi- 
ana, who  gave  them  freedom  and  brought  them  to  New  England. 
Then,  there's  James  G.  Birney,  who  came  from  Alabama  to  the 
North,  a  martyr  to  his  views  on  immediate  emancipation.  He 
manumitted  twenty-one  slaves  at  a  cost  of  about  twenty  thousand 
dollars  to  himself." 

"The  direst  proscription  is  promised,  however,  to  every  South- 
erner who  secedes  from  the  slave-code,"  said  Friend  Sterlingworth 
impressive]}'.  "  Thad,  remember  that  Mr.  Birney's  name  was  ex- 
punged from  the  roll  of  attorneys  in  the  supreme  court  of  Alabama. 
He  had  also  been  a  trustee  in  the  University  of  Alabama  and  an 
honorary  member  of  several  societies ;  from  all  these,  he  was  ex- 
pelled by  resolutions  as  a  mark  of  displeasure  and  hatred  of  the 
Souih." 

"  There  is  another  beautiful  instance  of  adhesion  to  principle, 
and  a  willing  obedience  to  the  dictates  of  conscience.  The  exam- 
ple of  the  Misses  Grimke  of  Charleston,  South  Carolina,"  said 
Mrs.  Glenly.     "  Those  two  ladies  bade  farewell   to  rank,  opulence 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  519 

and  a  life  of  luxury,  and  accepted  a  life  of  exile  from  all  they  held 
dear,  casting  in  their  lot  with  the  despised  and  vilified  friends  of 
'  Freedom  in  the  North.  Sarah  and  Angelina  Grimke  seem  to  me 
to  be  two  celestial  beings,  leading  the  way  in  which  we  should  fol- 
low; the  hem  of  their  garments  I  am  not  worthy  to  touch." 

"  Fanny,  you  remember  well,  Leonore  Wallace  who  visited  us  at 
East  Elms,"  remarked  Caro  Glenly. 

"  We  all  loved  her,"  responded  Mrs.  Glenly.^  "Her  sentiments 
were  after  our  hearts  ;  but  she  lacked  strength  to  follow  her  con- 
victions.    Filial  affection  was  the  stronger  passion." 

"  Leonore  Wallace  was  my  beau-ideal  of  a  frank,  fearless,  proud 
and  gentle  girl,"  said  Caro. 

"  Leonore  Wallace  ? "  asked  Lucy ;  "  where  from  ?  I  once  knew 
a  lovely  Leonore  Wallace  in  Charleston,  South  Carolina." 

"  She  must  be  the  same.  She  spent  one  summer  in  East  Elms, 
with  friends,  and  insisted  upon  making  our  acquaintance  as  aboli- 
tionists. We  found  her  a  young  person  of  high  refinement,  of  ele- 
gant but  unaffected  manners ;  a  most  genial  companion.  She 
even  formed  a  strong  attachment  for  our  Fanny,  here,  despite 
Fanny's  puritanical  simplicity." 

Lucy  dropped  the  flannel  on  which  she  was  stitching,  sank  back 
into  her  chair,  ejaculating  with  moistened  eyes, — 

*'  Is  it  possible  that  you  have  seen  and  know  Leonore  Wallace  ? 
She  sits  enthroned  in  my  memory.  To  my  Southern  solitary  life 
and  sorrow  she  dared  to  give  me  aid  and  comfort.  Have  you 
heard  from  her  since.''  " 

"Not  a  syllable,"  answered  Mrs.  Glenly.  "Her  aristocratic 
mother  came  on  and  withdrew  her  daughter  from  Northern  con- 
tamination. We  shall  probably  know  no  more  of  Leonore.  She 
hath  gone  back  to  her  idols." 

Alfy  laid  his  boyish  hand  in  Friend  Sterlingworth's  large  palm, 
and  solicited  another  story  about  the  South. 

Mary  sconded  her  boy's  request. 

"  If  you  can  aid  me,  sir,  in  establishing  in  these  young  minds  an 
impartial  love  for  men  of  all  complexions,  and  a  sacred  regard  for 
their  equal  inalienable  rights,  I  shall  owe  you  many  obligations." 

"  I  can  show  them,  from  personal  experience,  the  heinous  char- 
acter of  the  advocate  of  slavery,  at  least,  Mrs.  Buddington.     I  was 


520  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

a  student  of  Andover  a  few  years  since.  What  transpired  there, 
and  the  drama  in  which  I  was  an  actor,  can  be  no  fiction.  1  was 
then  preparing  for  college.  In  common  with  several  other  young 
men  at  Phillips  Academy,  my  whole  religious  nature  revolted  from 
the  helpless  condition  of  the  American  slave.  Debarred  from 
active  service,  looking  towards  his  liberation  by  the  Constitution 
and  its  insatiate  progeny  of  National  and  State  laws,  as  well  as  by 
popular  feeling,  we  tiad  no  other  resource  but  prayer, —  that  should 
m»ve  the  arm  of  the  Almighty  Ruler  of  events.  We  went  into  the 
academy,  in  pne  of  the  rooms  used  for  such  gatherings  as  monthly 
concerts  of  prayer  for  other  objects.  We  soon  found  that  our 
prayer-meeting  for  slaves  was  a  flagrant  offence  to  the  officers  of 
the  academy.  At  morning  prayers,  President  Johnson  waroed  us 
to  desist  from  our  course  ;  stated  that  much  mischief  would  arise 
from  it;  that  it  would  destroy  the  harmonious  action  of  the  churches 
and  produce  a  schism  between  the  North  and  South.  He  rebuked 
us  for  cherishing  a  zeal  without  knowledge  ;  also  for  breaking 
the  rules  of  the  academy  in  forming  a  society  without  permission. 

"  We  held  no  more  prayer-meetings  there,  but  attended  the 
Methodist  church  concert  of  prayer  for  slaves.  This  was  an  addi- 
tional crime  for  which  there  appeared  to  be  no  extenuation. 
Another  remonstrance  followed  ;  two  of  the  students,  who  were 
considered  ring-leaders,  were  expelled.  The  others  could  not  look 
upon  this  step  with  indifference  ;  so,  about  tifty-two  of  us  took  up 
the  burden  of  disgrace,  with  those  expelled,  and  left  the  academy.'' 
.  "  That  was  an  exodus  worth  seeing,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Buddington. 

"  I  suppose  some  of  them  were  poor  students  depending  on  their 
own  exertions  for  the  means  of  education.  There  was  a  noble  ex- 
ample of  self-sacrifice  for  the  future." 

"  True  ;  but  the  times  demanded  it  then  and  7iow.^^ 

"Where    did  those  fugitives  from    ecclesiastical    t}Tanny    find 

refuge  ?" 

"Many  of  them  were  nearly  prepared  for  college,  and  entered 
soon  after.     Others  scattered  to  various  ecclesiastical  institutions." 

''Where  did  you  go,  sir?"  asked  Thad,  hot  indignation  lurking  in 
every  syllable.     His  conservatism  was  at  last  routed. 

"  I .?  I  and  three  others  went  to  *  Noyes  Academy,'  in  the  town  of 
Canaan,  New  Hampshire." 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  521 

"What  led  you  there?"  questioned  Doctor  Clarendon. 

"  An  academy  had  been  built  at  Canaan,  and  was  then  admit- 
ting colored  students,  which  was  considered  an  innovation.  A 
growing  uneasiness  was  manifested  on  the  part  of  the  Democrats, 
and  it  was  thought  that  an  accession  of  white  students  would  soften 
the  rising  hostility.  The  refugees  from  Andover  were  invited 
there.  As  I  mentioned,  only  four  of  us  accepted  the  invitation. 
To  use  a  homely  phrase,  we  seemed  to  have  jumped  'from  the  fry- 
ing-pan into  the  fire.'  There  was  no  academy.  The  mobocratic 
democrats  on  the  day  previous,  in  a  whirlwind  of  rage,  drew  it  off  its 
foundations  and  stranded  it  in  a  swamp,  a  mile  and  a  half  away." 

A  great  uproar  of  exclamation  and  laughter  succeeded  this  part  of 
the  relation.  The  ladies  dropped  their  sewing  ;  scissors,  wax,  and 
thread  fell  to  the  floor  and  rolled  away  in  an  unheard-of  frolic. 

The  doctor  came  to  his  feet,  flourished  his  red  bandana,  took 
excited  strides  about  the  room,  pulled  Thad's  ear,  and  cried, — 

"  Why,  the  deuce  !  that  academy  in  the  swamp  was  an  improve- 
ment on  the  Buddington/^tt/,  in  Cloudspire." 

Mr.  Link's  eyes  twinkled  at  the  glaring  proof  of  his  confirmed 
belief.     He  said, — 

"  I  am  not  surprised  at  that  Canaan  outrage  ;  it  is  consistent 
with  the  fixed  and  general  designs  of  the  Democrats,  wherever  you 
find  them.  That  political  class  are  the  Northern  bloodhounds  that 
do  the  Southern  master's  bidding.  Go  where  you  will  in  the  States, 
go  into  the  forests  of  Maine,  go  into  the  quiet  hills  of  New  Hamp- 
shire, into  the  valleys  of  Connecticut,  into  New  York,  Ohio  or  Illi- 
nois, a  Democrat  is  the  same  in  principle.  The  Democrat  of  the 
counting-room  of  the  professor's  study  and  of  the  most  squalid 
shanty  of  the  foreigner,  have  each  the  same  determination  to  crush 
liberty  and  the  God-given  rights  of  man.  Pull  the  latch  of  the  re- 
motest log  cabin  in  the  East  or  West,  and  you  are  confronted  by  a 
stalwart,  unkempt  Democrat,  in  the  midst  of  his  dangerous  brood. 
And,  although  a  newspaper  never  entered  the  rough  door,  or  a 
word  of  any  book  was  ever  read  there,  and  the  alphabet  never 
heard  of,  under  its  roof,  the  "  curse  of  Canaan  "  is  on  his  lips. 
'  Southern  rights  '  are  coarsely  rehearsed,  a  loaded  rifle  for  the 
wretched  fugitive  stands  behind  the  door,  and  a  stout  rope  hangs 
by  his  chimney  jam  for  the  neck  of  the  abolionist." 


522  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"Mr.  Link  has  the  floor  !  "  cried  the  doctor. 

"  Three  cheers  for  Mr.  Link  !  "  cried  Luc}^,  clapping  her  hands 
till  the  clapping  became  general. 

Hester  put  her  laughing  face  into  the  dining-room  door,  and 
asked  what  was  the  matter. 

"  Oh,  Hester  !  Mr.  Link's  tongue  is  loosed.  He  has  been  de- 
scribing Democracy.  The  silent  man  has  spoken  ;  it  is  equal  to 
Shakespeare." 

"Susan  and  I  are  losing  all  this,"  laughed  Hester;  "but  we'll 
get  Mr.  Link  a  good  dinner,  for  we  know  he's  on  our  side." 

"You  are  not  losing  much,"  said  Mrs.  Glenly ;  "you  have  been 
scouged  by  Democrats  from  your  birth  ;  you  know  them  better 
than  we  can  tell  you." 

"  Oh,  true  !  Hester,  said  Lucy.  You  know  two  Democrats,  and 
that's  enough  for  o?ie  to  know ;  you  know  Deacon  Steele  and  his 
brother  William,  don't  you  "*.  the  rest  are  after  the  same  pattern  ; 
you  shall  spend  the  evening  with  us." 

The  closed  door  shut  out  Hester  and  her  ringing  laugh. 

"Allow  me  to  explain,  Mrs.  Buddington,"  said  Mr.  Link.  *'You 
see  I've  led  a  sort  of  a  lonesome  life,  and  never  till  now  had 
many  to  talk  to,  except  my  droves.  I  feel  a  freedom  here  to  speak, 
and  I've  just  expressed  what  I  have  always  known  ;  so,  if  agreeable 
to  the  company,  I  should  like  to  hear  the  story  of  the  academy 
finished."  ■ 

"Shall  I  proceed,  ladies?"  asked  Mr.  Sterlingworth. 

"Certainly,"  was  unanimous.  The  stray  work  and  sewing  uten- 
sils were  brought  back  to  duty. 

"How  could  they  draw  that  academy  building  so  far?"  asked 
Alfy. 

"The  neighboring  towns  furnished  oxen ;  you  understand  it  was 
a  common  cause.  One  hundred  yoke  of  oxen  were  hitched  on  with 
heavy  chains  ;  the  day  was  hot,  and  the  work  was  tedious  ;  men 
swore  and  drank ;  chains  broke,  but  the  setting  sun  viewed  from 
their  hands,  'the  worthy  action  done.' 

"The  night  previous,  they  mobbed  the  colored  students  in  their 
boarding-house  ;  these  students  numbered  about  twenty.  One  of 
them  from  New  York,  was  sick  in  bed  ;  a  stone,  weighing  about 
four  pounds,  came   through  the   window  over  his   bed,   and  tore 


WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  523 

away  the  wall  opposite.  These  students  were  armed  ;  they  had 
been  furnished  with  guns,  and  they  were  loaded.  In  reply  to  the 
stone,  the  sick  man  sat  up  in  bed,  and  fired  a  shot  through  the 
window;  others  opened  the  door  and  sent  their  bullets  whizzing 
into  the  night.  This  volley  scattered  the  cowards.  Blood  was 
found  in  the  street  the  next  morning." 

"Of  course  the  school  was  broken  up?  "  asked   Mrs.  Clarendon. 

"  It  was  broken  up  soon  after,  madam.  We  remained  and  re- 
cited our  lessons  to  the  principal  at  private  houses.  The  act  of 
driving  out  colored  students  by  mob  law,  makes  a  fine  symphony 
with  the  duels  of  South  Carolina  and  other  States  which  fine  and 
imprison  for  the  crime  of  teaching  a  slave  to  read." 

"  A  sweet  savor  of  earth  to  rise  up  among  the  angels  around  the 
Throne,"  said  Mr.  Glenly,  ironically. 

"Lucy,"  said  her  mother,  "I  must  confess  to  entire  conversion 
to  your' faith;  you  reasoned  your  father  into  anti-slavery  belief, 
more  easily.  Here  I  am,  at  the  eleventh  hour  ;  count  me  among 
the  opponents  of  slavery,  hereafter.  Heretofore,  I  have  discredited 
these  outrages.     I  have  no  cause  to  discredit  them  now." 

The  dinner-bell  sounded.  Little  Roland  swung  open  the  door, 
with  a  low  bow, — 

"Gentlemen  and  ladies,  the  table  awaits." 

"Well  done,  Roland,"  said  the  host.  "Is  there  a  seat  at  table 
for  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"For  Addie  and—" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"For  Thad  and  Alfy?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  That's  right ;  we  are  all  of  one  blood.    What  book  is  that  in  .?  " 

"The  Bible,  sir." 

*•  You  three  fiy-aways  don't  like  turkey  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  we  do !  but  Addie  says  her  mother  never  had  a 
turkey."  '- 

"  Well,  she  will  have  turkey,  to-day. 

What  a  table  of  luxuries.  Its  delicious  odors  floated  away 
through  parlor,  hall  and  chambers.  The  happiest  era  in  several 
lives  dated  from  that  Thanksgiving  supper.     The  memories  of  ifs 


524  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

shining  silver;  its  crisp,  brown  turkey  on  the  gilt  china  platter; 
of  the  roasted  pigs  crouching  down  as  if  to  crunch  the  lemons  in 
their  mouths ;  of  the  huge  chicken  pies  ;  of  the  loaves  of  cake 
white  as  snow-banks ;  of  the  yellow  butter  with  "  pictures  on  it," 
as  little  Addie  said ;  of  the  floating  island,  and  of  the  fragrant  pile 
of  apples  and  oranges. 

These  memories  haunted  Susan's  hovel,  down  by  the  river,  all 
the  dreary  winter. 

When  the  frozen  plain  of  the  river  rang  with  the  skaters  glee, 
and  Susie's  children  had  no  skates  ;  when  the  fierce  winds  blew 
and  the  drifting  snow  buried  their  path  to  the  village  school,  their 
lonely  hours  were  beguiled  by  imitations  of  the  Thanksgiving 
dinner.  On  broken  bits  of  blue  crockery,  and  fragments  of  glass 
picked  up  in  the  village,  a  roasted  potato  grew  to  a  turkey,  their 
plate  of  mush  changed  to  floating  island,  and  their  brown  crust 
was  denominated  roast  pig.  A  chance  orange  from  Mrs.  Beame, 
cut  in  quarters  was  passed  with  the  bright-eyed  solicitation, — 

"Willie,  will  you  take  an  orange." 

After  dinner.  Squire  Buddington  drove  the  gentlemen  over  to 
Mr.  Link's  with  his  barouche  and  pair,  for  the  inspection  of  the 
handsome  drove.  Issy  drove  Mr.  Link  with  the  fast  bay.  The 
return  in  the  dusk  of  evening  brought  back  the  heavy  cloak,  fur 
gloves,  warm  leggings,  and  more  '  buffaloes  '  than  Mr.  Link  would 
need  for  a  ride  home  that  night. 

When  the  table  was  being  cleared,  Filette  and  Mary  packed  a 
large  cheese  box  with  the  substantials  and  dainties  of  the  da}^  A 
small  trunk  was  taken  into  Filette's  room,  and  filled  with  a  man's 
warm  clothing. 

"  There's  an  abundance  for  this  winter,  and  next, "  said  Mary, 
as  she  brought  forw-ard  three  pairs  of  her  husband's  warm  wool 
socks,  knitted  by  herself.  These,  with  Richard  Beame's  muf- 
fler, will  just  fill  the  trunk.  Ah  !  here's  Thad's  new  mittens  ;  he 
insists  upon  giving  them." 

"  Perhaps  it  would  be  better  for  Robert  to  wear  them,"  answered 
Filette. 

''  1  think  so."    « 

All   the  members  of  the  family  now  gathered    into   the   parlors 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  525 

with   the  guests,  in   the   evening.     Pleasant  games  were  provided 
for  the  younger  ones,  while  conversation  interested  the  elders. 

Hester's  request  was  presented,  that  she  might  hear  something 
about  the  South.-  Mrs.  Glenly  took  up  the  cause  and  asked  her 
husband  to  relate  the  incidents  of  the  visit  of  their  Quaker  friend, 
from  New  York,  in  South  Carolina  and  Georgia.  Upon  gaining 
his  consent,  Mrs.  Glenly  slipped  from  the  room,  and  Binah  en- 
tered without  comment. 

"  Your  room  be  all  right,  Mrs.  Buddington,"  said  Binah,  drop- 
ping her  curtsy.  "  I  likes  to  sit  wid  all,  dis  ebenin,' please  ^Missis," 
and  her  ample  form,  white  apron,  and  tulip  hued  turban,  dropped 
into  a  chair  by  Lucy. 

Mr.  Glenly  began  by  saying, — 

"IMy  Quaker  friend  was  a  young  man  of  excellent  and  agree 
able  manners,  whose  business  affairs  carried  him  South,  to  Charles- 
ton. During  his  stay  there  of  several  weeks,  he  called  on  a  cler- 
gyman, and  in  the  course  of  conversation  w^as  shown  his  library. 
]\Iy  friend  mentioned  his  father's  antiquarian  taste  for  books  and 
documents,  relating  to  the  Society  of  Friends.  At  parting,  the 
clergyman  gave  him  some  pamphlets  for  his  father  ;  among  them 
a  tract  describing  the  colony  at  Sierra  Leone,  and  containing  an 
account  of  the  slave  trade  in  Africa.  With  the  pamphlets  in  his 
trunk,  he  started  for  Savannah.  It  was  in  January.  He  stopped 
at  the  City  Hotel,  and  there  met  a  marshal  of  the  City  of  New 
York,  who  knew  him.  This  marshal  was  in  great  repute  for 
catching  runaway  slaves.  Not  being  at  that  time  in  pursuit  of 
his  natural  prey,  and  having  his  appetite  for  blood  whetted  by  the 
sight  of  my  friend,  and  being  in  high  feather  among  the  slave- 
holders, he  pointed  out  my  young  friend  as  the  son  of  an  aboli- 
tionist." 

"  What  a  happy  discovery  for  the  people  of  Savannah,"  re- 
marked Squire  Buddington.  "  I  doubt  not  that  worked  up  a  fine 
frenzy  in  their  blue-blooded  veins." 

"  The  frenzy  of  immediate  vengeance,  upon  the  helpless  head  of 
their  victim,  whom,  however,  they  allowed  to  retire  for  the  night, 
unconscious  of  danger,  that  he  might  have  no  means  of  escape 
from  their  villainous  iiands" 


526  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  He  might  as  well  be  in  de  hungry  lion  den.  Dere  be  no 
angel  of  de  Lord,  in  dat  South  den  ! "  exclaimed  Binah. 

''  Binah,  you  have  spoken  a  solemn  truth,"  sighed  Mary. 

"  Binah,  has  the  proof  of  her  own  experience  —  that  is  the 
surest,  Mary,"  gravely  replied  George.  "The  man  is  to  be  pitied, 
who  falls  into  the  Southerners  hands." 

"  My  friend  was  to  be  pitied.  A  gang  of  men  forced  open  his 
door,  and  with  horrid  blasphemy,  struck  him,  kicked  him,  and  spit 
in  his  face." 

Jesus  hab  mercy"!  ejaculated  Binah.  Involuntary  groans  were 
uttered  by  every  listener. 

Mr.  Glenly  continued, — 

"  They  broke  open  his  trunk  and  thrust  their  hands  in  his 
pockets  for  anti-slavery  documents.  They  found  the  Quaker 
tract  given  him  in  Charleston,  on  Sierra  Leone,  and  screamed 
with  exultation, — 

"Here  is  the  proof   we  wanted,  the   proof  of   his    abolitionism." 

The  information  was  communicated  to  the  mob,  crowding  the 
halls  and  bar-room  below,  that  a  trunk  full  oi  abolition  documents 
had  been  found.  Howling  and  cursing,  they  seized  the  North- 
erner, told  him  to  say  his  last  prayers,  and  go  down  with  them. 
He  appealed  to  the  proprietors  of  the  hotel,  but  received  for  an 
answer, — 

"'Good  God!  you  must  not  appeal  to  me.  This  is  ad — d 
delicate  business.  I  shall  not  be  able  to  protect  my  own  property. 
But  I  will  go  for  the  mayor.'  " 

"  Could  he  not  escape  from  a  back  window  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Beame. 

"  No,  mother,"  answered  Richard,  "  there  was  no  escape.  All 
Savannah  was  of  one  mind.  Wherever  he  turned,  he  would  have 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Philistines." 

"  Some  advised  him  to  jump  from  the  three^story  window  of  his 
room.  The  bar-keeper  wrote  him,  on  a  slip  of  paper,  that  his  only 
mode  of  escape  was  by  the  window." 

"Ah!  I  see!"'  exclaimed 'the  doctor.  "  The  infuriated  wretches 
on  the  pavement  below,  who  clamored  for  his  blood,  would  have 
had  his  life  all  tfie  same,  and  saved  their  own  reputation  as  mur- 
derers." 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  527 

"  Awfully  true,"  remarked  George  Buhdiugton.  "  His  death 
would  have  been  denominated  suicided 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Glenly,  "  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  die,  and 
began  to  descend  from  his  room,  where,  fortunately  at  the  foot  of 
the  stairs,  he  was  met  by  the  mayor  and  several  aldermen. 
They  accompanied  him  to  his  room,  examined  his  books  and 
papers,  and  were  assured  that  he  came  to  Savannah  on  commercial 
business.  The  mayor  had  promised  the  mob  to  take  the  so  called 
abolitionist  into  custody  to  try  him  the  next  morning.  If  he  was 
an  abolitionist,  he  should  not  be  suffered  to  go  at  large." 

"T'ank  de  Lord  dey  didn't  kill  him  in  de  street!"  murmured 
Binah,  with  both  hands  raised. 

"  He  was  confined  in  a  cell  doubly  guarded.  The  blue-blooded 
mob  raved  round  the  whole  night,  and  the  mayor  was  sent  for  to 
prevent  their  breaking  into  his  prison," 

"Yet,"  interposed  Mrs.  Clarendon,  "  I  am  reluctant  to  credit  the 
idea,  that  the  high-bred  city  of  Savannah  would  allow  a  cold- 
blooded murder  like  that  to  take  place  in  their  midst." 

"On  the  contrary,  Mrs  Clarendon,  the  domestic  code  of  the 
high-bred  and  Christian  Southerner,  openly  demands  just  such 
murders,  and  makes  it  obligatory  upon  every  citizen  who  w^ould 
maintain  an  honorable  reputation  among  them,"  explained  Friend 
Sterlingworth. 

"  Yes,  madam,"  affirmed  Mr.  Glenly,  "  it  would  be  as  safe  to  fall 
into  the  torturing  hands  of  savage  Indians  as  into  the  clutches  of 
those  Georgians.  Why  !  believe  me,  madam,  a  gallows  was  erected, 
with  a  barrel  of  feathers  and  a  tub  of  tar  under  it,  that  the  mob 
might  amuse  themselves  with  their  victim  before  hanging  him.  The 
next  morning,  the  mob  followed  him  to  the  mayor's  office,  but  the 
mayor  was  satisfied  with  the  proof  that  his  visit  to  Savannah  had 
no  connection  wath  anti-slavery  projects.  A  pouring  rain  came 
on  at  the  time,  scattered  the  crowd,  and  my  friend  passed  out  un- 
observed.    Ac  parting,  the  mayor  said  to  him, — 

"  *  Young  man,  you  may  consider  it  a  miracle  that  you  have 
escaped  with  your  life.'  " 

"  Where  could  he  find  refuge?  "  asked  several  voices  at  once. 

"  On  board  the  ship  '  Angelique '  bound  for  New  York.  The 
captain  received  him  with  kindness,  but  soon  after   the  mayor  sent 


528  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

word  that  the  populace  had  discovered  his  place  of  concealment, 
and  would  attack  the  vessel." 

"  He  might  as  well  jump  into  the  water  next,"  said  Hester. 

"  My  Sabior  !  "  moaned  Binah  j  "  dey  fish  him  out  dere  sure  ! 
kill  him  twice  ober." 

"  The  captain  of  the  *  Angelique  '  took  him  in  a  boat,  bade  him 
lie  down  flat  in  the  bottom,  and  rowed  the  persecuted  young  man 
to  a  brig  bound  for  Providence.  The  captain  of  the  brig  had  a 
fancy  to  play  into  the  hands  of  his  pursuers,  by  sending  him  back 
to  the  city,  but,  by  the  persuasion  of  the  captain  of  the  ^  Ange- 
lique,' my  friend  w'as  allowed  to  be  put  on  board." 

"That  Providence  captain  was  a  dough  face,  Uucle  George,"  said 
Alfy. 

"  That's  it,  my  boy.     Proceed,  Mr.  Glenly." 

"  Remember,  my  friends,  this  was  in  the  month  of  January,  and 
the  brig  was  bound  North.  Our  traveler  had  been  robbed  of  his 
money  and  clothing  in  Savannah.  The  voyage  lasted  thirty- five 
ciays,  accompanied  by  a  severe  storm.  Unshielded  from  the  in- 
clemency of  the  season,  his  hands  and  feet  were  frozen.  Arrived 
home,  his  friends  scarcely  knew  the  haggard  wayfarer  as  their 
own." 

"  A  thousand  thanks,  Mr.  Glenly,"  for  this  history,  said  Filette. 
'*  You  have  described  an  impending  fate,  to  any  one  or  all  of  us, 
who  may  venture  into  the  land  of  the  jessamine  and  the  rose." 

"The  land  of  the  assasin  and  the  fiend,  Mrs.  Buddington,  with 
your  permission,"  said  Air.  Link. 

"  Mr.  Glenly,"  remarked  Friend  Sterlingworth,  "that  Savannah 
mob  was  more  successfully  controlled  by  the  mayor,  than  the  Bos- 
ton mob  by  Mayor  Lyman.  The  Savannah  mayor  got  his  man  into 
jail  without  harm  and  out  of  the  city,  while  IMayor  Lyman's  mob 
cut  the  traces  of  the  carriage,  held  the  horses,  hauled  the  driver  off 
his  seat,  and — " 

"  Do  relate  the  particulars.  Friend  Sterlingworth,"  begged  the 
whole  party. 

"  I  will  give  a  brief  sketch  of  the  Boston  mob,  to  illustrate  the 
subserviency  of  the  North  to  the  slave  power,  or  the  harmony  of 
interests  between  Savannah  and  Boston,  at  that  time.  The  South 
says, — 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  529 

"  *  We  cannot  afford  to  have  the  question  of  slavery  discussed.' 

"The  North  answers, — 

" '  It  shall  not  be  discussed.' 

"  Thus,  Mr.  Garrison,  the  editor  of  the  Liberator,  becomes  an  ob- 
ject of  envenomed  hatred  to  the  Boston  public ;  a  reward  is  offered 
for  his  head  in  the  South ;  a  mob  of  two  thousand  of  the  most  re- 
spectable citizens  in  broadcloth,  hunt  him  in  the  North. 

"  The  Boston  Female  Anti  slavery  society  organized  a  meeting, 
at  which  it  was  thought  Garrison  and  Thompson,  an  English  gen- 
tleman visiting  this  country  would  speak.  But  the  owner  of  the 
hall  notified  them  that  they  could  not  hold  their  meeting  unless 
they  would  give  him  bonds  to  the  amount  of  ten  thousand  dollars 
for  the  safety  of  his  building.  The  meeting  was  postponed  a  week, 
when  the  ladies  again  announced  a  meeting  in  a  small  hall  belong- 
ing to  themselves,  in  the  attic  on  the  morning  of  that  day.  A  pla- 
card was  posted  in  State  Street,  of  which  I  will  report  a  part. 

"  Bear  in  mind,  my  friends,  that  George  Thompson  numbered 
among  his  friends,  Lord  Broughman,  Lord  Denham,  and  other  dis- 
tinguished Englishmen,  and  that  his  cool  and  scholarly  oratory  was 
irresistible  to  the  consciences  of  men.  This  is  a  part  of  the 
placard :  — 

" '  A  purse  of  One  Hundred  dollars  has  been  raised  by  a  number 
of  patriotic  citizens,  to  reward  the  individual  who  shall  first  lay 
violent  hands  on  Thompson,  so  that  he  may  be  brought  to  the  tar- 
kettle  before  dark.  Friends  of  the  Union  be  vigilant!  '  Thomson 
was  not  at  the  Ladies'  meeting.  Garrison  was  present.  The  rav- 
enous mob  below  demanded  both.  The  mayor  sent  the  ladies  home, 
and,  in  order  to  protect  the  building,  requested  Mr.  Garrison  to 
find  some  way  of  escape. 

"  '  Go  out,'  he  -said,  '  that  I  may  say  to  these  people,  that  you 
are  not  here.' 

"  Mr.  Garrison  went  out  at  the  rear  of  the  building  only  to  be 
seized  by  his  watchful  enemies  and  brought  with  demoniac  shouts 
into  the  hands  of  the  rioters.  He  was  rescued  in  a  hand-to-hand 
struggle,  and,  when  carried  before  the  mayor  again,  he  had  upon 
him  only  vestiges  of  his  clothing;  a  rope  had  been  around  his 
body.    The  weak  and  timid  mayor,  instead  of  protecting  him  under 


53°  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

his  own  roof,  sent  him  to  the  stronghold  of  the  jail  for  safety. 

"  Such  is  the  condition  of  our  country.  In  servile  submission  to 
the  slave-master's  wish,  legislatures,  pulpits,  and  presses  thunder 
forth  silence  to  the  advocates  of  liberty  and  justice.  In  Congress, 
the  measures  of  that  arch-traitor,  Calhoun,  and  the  Pinckney  gag 
whittled  by  that  Yankee,  Atherton,  crushed  out  the  right  of  peti- 
tion, so  that  the  same  chain  which  binds  the  slave  gang  of  the 
South,  fetters  the  Northern  Freeman." 

"What  is  the  Pinckney  gag,  sir.?"  asked  Thad. 

"  The  Pinckney-Atherton  gag  is  a  rule  of  Congress,  that  every 
petition,  memorial,  resolution,  proposition  or  paper,  touching  or 
relating  in  any  way  to  Slavery  or  the  abolition  thereof,  shall  be 
laid  upon  the  table,  without  being  debated,  printed,  or  referred  ;  it 
puts  a  hand  upon  the  mouths  of  the  people,  and  stifles  their 
prayers.  Hunt  up  the  Constitution,  my  lad,  and  measure  this 
Gessler  rule  by  that  instrument. 

"  The  effrontery  of  the  South,  in  endeavoring  to  throttle  free 
speech,  has  some  masterly  opponents,  who  would  not  be  counted 
fantastics,"  said  Richnrd  Beame.  "  Daniel  Webster  says,  '  It  is 
the  ancient  and  undoubted  right  of  this  people  to  canvass  public 
measures.  It  is  a  home-bred  right ;  it  is  a  fireside  privilege.  It  is 
enjoyed  in  every  house  and  cottage  and  cabin  of  the  land.  Be- 
longing to  private  life  as  a  right,  it  belongs  to  public  life  as  a  duty. 
Wherever  it  is  questioned,  I  will  carry  it  to  its  fullest  extent. 
W^herever  it  is  questioned,  I  will  plant  myself  on  the  extremest 
boundary  of  my  rights,  and  defy  every  one  to  move  me  from  my 
ground.  This  high  constitutional  privilege,  I  will  defend  in  this 
House,  and  without  the  House,  and  in  all  places.  In  times  of  war 
and  in  times  of  peace,  and  at  all  times  living,  I  will  assert  it ;  dying, 
I  will  assert  it ;  and,  if  I  leave  no  other  inheritance  to  my  chil- 
dren, I  will  leave  them  the  inheritance  of  free  speech,  and  the 
example  of  a  manly  and  independent  defense  of  it.' " 

"  Ah  !  "  said  George  Buddington,  with  much  enthusiasm,  "  the 
voice  of  Daniel  Webster  should  be  the  voice  of  us  all.  We  have  only 
to  say  to  the  South,  '  We  will  speak  ! '  In  the  language  of  Lowell, — 

"  The)'  are  slaves,  who  dare  not  speak 
For  the  fallen  and  the  weak ; 
They  are  slaves,  who  dare  not  be 
In  the  right,  with  two  or  three." 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  £3 1 

"According  to  the  Governer  of  Massachusetts,  Mr.  Everett,  we 
have  committed  an  indictable  offence  this  day  and  evening,  in  dis- 
cussing slavery  and  its  cruelties.  For  so  he  denominated  this  kind 
of  conversation,"  declared  Mr.  Glenly.  "  But  I  say,  let  us  abide 
by  our  consciences,  even  to  martyrdom.  Let  us  teach  to  our  chil- 
dren and  the  communities  in  which  we  live,  the  maintenance  of  the 
inalienable  rights  of  man,  without  regard  to  his  condition  of  servi- 
tude or  the  complexion  of  his  skin.     What  say  you,  my  friends  ?  " 

A  chorus  of  deep  and  solemn  "  Ayes  ! "  was  the  response. 

Hester,  Susan  and  the  children,  tripped  out  to  the  kitchen  ;  the 
former  to  look  after  the  late  tea,  and  the  latter,  for  a  few  more 
madcap  pranks  before  parting. 

The  gentlemen  stepped  up  to  the  fugitive's  room  to  bid  him  be 
of  good  cheer  on  his  cold  night's  journey,  and  to  confer  upon 
a  name  with  which,  in  his  great  poverty,  he  had  never  been  en- 
dowed. 

"Robert,"  said  the  host,  "we  give  you  a  name  to-night.  You 
will  call  yourself,  hereafter,  'Robert  Adams,'  after  John  Quincy 
Adams,  a  man  in  Congress  at  Washington,  who  speaks  for  freedom 
on  all  occasions.  He  desires  all  the  slaves  to  be  free.  Now  see 
if  you  can  speak  your  own  name  so  no  one  can  catch  you." 

"Bob  Adam,  sir." 

"  No  ;  do  not  call  yourself  Bob  ;  you  are  a  man,  now.  Call 
yourself  'Robert ;'  Robert  Adams.     Try  again." 

"  Robert  Adam,  sir." 

"  Robert  Adams-s.     Try  again." 

"  Robert  Adams,  sir." 

"  All  right  now,  Robert ;  do  not  forget." 

Richard  suggested  that  it  would  be  better,  on  the  whole,  "  to  call 
yourself  '  Adams,'  a  part  of  the  name.  Mr.  Link  will  call  you 
*  Adams '  on  the  route,  and  you  will  get  used  to  hearing  it." 

"  Now,  Adams,"  said  Mr.  Buddington,  laying  his  hand  on  his 
shoulder  pleasantly,  "  come  back  to  us.  When  there  is  freedom  in 
the  South  and  the  North,  come  back  to  us." 

"  Dat  time  long  way  off,  sir,  I  spects." 

"  Times  and  seasons  are  in  the  hands  of  the  Lord,  who  hears  the 
groans  of  the  oppressed,  or,  in  other  words,  God  is  merciful  and 
knows  all  better  than  we  do." 


532  WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

"Meantime,  *  Adams,'  get  some  one  to  teach  you  to  read  and 
write.  Never  mind  if  it  is  slow  work  at  first,  study  away,  and  find 
some  friend  to  write  us  for  you.  *  Adams,' we  shall  not  speak  to 
you  after  you  leave  this  room,  that  you  may  get  away  safely  ;  so 
here  are  our  parting  hands,  and  God  bless  you.  The  ladies  will 
come  up  with  your  tea,  and  wrap  you  for  your  journey." 

The  doctor  remained  to  attend  to  the  wounded  arm,  to  give 
directions  about  its  future  care,  and  the  necessary  protection  from 
the  cold.  The  red  bandana  was  in  repeated  requisition,  as  his 
feet  went  busily  between  the  bed  and  table,  on  which  was  his  open 
medicine  case,  with  vials  of  washes  and  liniments,  and  long  ban- 
dages to  be  rolled.  Anon  he  turned  to  Robert,  lifted  his  arm,  ex- 
amined the  fingers,  asking  questions  which  seemed  to  have 
suddenly  occurred.  When  all  was  done,  he  stood  again  by  his 
patient,  and  said  with  emotion, — 

"  There,  poor  fellow,  I've  done  all  I  can  for  you.  I  shall  have 
to  give  you  up  into  other  hands.  Those  gentlemen  understand 
your  danger,  and  I  suppose  the  choice  between  Virginia  and  Can- 
ada is  plain.  The  good  Queen  Victoria  will  take  care  of  you.  By 
George  !  I  wish  we  had  as  good  a  woman  to  rule  in  this  country, 
I'd  rather  see  her  in  the  President's  chair,  than  any  President  we 
have  had  so  far." 

At  this  point,  the  waving  of  the  red  bandana  in  the  fire-light, 
brightened  up  the  room  amazingly.     But  he  went  on, — 

"  Robert,  I've  done  something  ior  you,  but  you  have  done  more 
for  7ne.  Adams,  your  child-like  forgetfulness  of  such  unparalled 
wrongs  and  injustice  as  slavery  inflicts,  has  been  a  puzzle  to  me. 
Why !  Robert,"  stepping  round  between  him  and  the  fire,  "  If  I 
had  been  in  your  shoes  —  no  —  by  George  !  "you  had  none.  If  I 
had  been  m  your  tracks,  I  should  have  knocked  down  and  dragged 
out.  Old  marse  nor  young  marse  wouldn't  have  had  any  heads  on 
their  shoulders.  Why !  '  Adams,'  that's  your  name,  you  know, 
though  I  shall  call  you  Robert  to  myself ;  well,  '  Adams  '  if  your 
intellect  had  not  been  forever  under  the  heel  of  the  white  man, 
you  would  have  handled  the  lancet  to-day,  as  well  as  I  do  ;  for 
that  matter,  perhaps  better.  You  could  have  had  your  horse,  your 
home,  your  office  and  library,  as  well  as  the  best  of  us.  My  God ! 
there  must  be  a  way  for  you  oppressed  people  out  of  some  Red 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  533 

Sea,  before  many  years !  I  feel  it  and  believe  it.  .  The  Lord 
Almighty,  whom  these  churches  worship,  is  not  t]ie  Lord  they 
make  him.  He  cannot  be  deaf  to  all  the  groans,  and  cries,  and 
tears  of  anguish  that  daily  go  up  to  Him  from  that  hell  in  the  South, 
Now,  Robert, —  ah  !  '  Adams,'  give  me  your  whole  hand.  I'm 
going  to  say  '  good-bye.'  Hear  me.  Hold  up  that  broken  arm 
and  withered  hand,  every  day  before  your  Creator,  and  pray  for 
His  vengeance  on  that  cursed  Constitution,  and  our  laws,  and  the 
men  who  framed  them.  If  He's  a  God  of  mercy.  He  will  hear. 
Another  thing ;  get  a  spelling-book  and  study,  learn  to  read  and 
write,  if  it  takes  you  ten  years,  and  if  you  ever  dare  to  come  into 
the  States,  come  to  me  and  my  Lucy.  I've  pinned  a  paper 
with  written  directions  for  your  arm  inside  your  coat  pocket,  and 
I've  tucked  into  the  same  pocket  a  roll  of  bandages  and  the  lini- 
ments.    Good-bye,  Robert.     Good-bye,  '  Adams.'" 

At  ten  o'clock  the  Thanksgiving  festivities  closed.  The  confu- 
sion of  departure  began.  One  vehicle  ofter  another  rumbled  away 
on  the  frozen  road.  Robert  descended  into  the  dark  hall,  followed 
by  Lucy  and  Filette  ;  not  a  word  was  spoken.  Out  in  the  dark- 
ness, Mr.  Link  and  Adams  stepped  into  a  light,  covered  wagon,  so 
mufHed,  that  '  Fugitive  '  or  '  Samaritan '  were  undistinguishable. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 


"  /'~\H  !  how  it  rains,  Cossetina,"  regretfully  spoke  the  lady  at 
\^^  the  window,  leaning  her  forehead  against  the  sash,  and^peer- 
ing  out  into  the  gray  sheets  dashing  upon  the  huddled  roofs,  the 
brick  walls,  and  the  paved  streets  of  the  city.  "  What  a  dreary 
rain  !  and  this  gale  from  the  south-east  is  terrific !  " 

Cossetina  came  up  by  the  side  of  her  mistress,  and  felt  herself 
enfolded  by  the  arm  and  delicate  hand  about  her  shoulders.  In 
answer  to  this  token  of  her  mistress'  never-failing  affection  for  her 
little  foreign  maid,  she  slipped  her  own  arm  about  the  waist  of  her 
mistress,  asking  with  a  troubled  expression, — 
"  Why  is  my  lady  grave  .''  Zaffiri  loves  the  rain  !  " 
This   was  spoken   in  the  tenderest   accents  of   her  native  Italian 


534  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE. 

tongue  —  the  charmed  language  in  which  her  thoughts  flowed  most 
easily,  and  which  was  ever  chosen,  when  mistress  and  maid  were 
alone. 

"  Zaffiri  dearly  loves  a  rainy  day  ;  but  her  dear  husband  is  on 
the  wild, -tossing  sea  to-day;  there  is  danger  in  its  treacherous 
waves.     He  is  returning  from  a  journey  to  tlie  South  on  business." 

Cossetina  crossed  herself,  murmuring, — 

*'  The  Almighty  "God  will  protect." 

For  a  while  they  stood  by  the  window,  silently  watching  the 
few  pedestrians,  who,  from  necessity,  dared  to  face  the  pitiless 
storm. 

"How  is  old  mauma,  this  morning,  Cossetina?  Have  you 
looked  into  her  room  ?     Has  she  a  warm  fire  .'' " 

"  Ah !  truly  ;  I  look  in  often,  as  your  kind  heart  bade  me  — 
old  mauma  is  well  and  happy,  her  fire  is  bright.  She  sent  her 
heart's  best  love  to  you  dear  lady,  and,  I  almost  forgot  —  mauma 
begged  me  to  ask  you  to  see  her  to-day  in  your  room,  if  you  had 
no  other  engagement." 

"  I  have  none ;  and  the  kindly  falling  rain  will  prevent  all  par- 
lor calls.  I  have  wished  to  have  an  uninterrupted  interview  with 
the  poor  old  creature,  ever  since  her  arrival,  but  absences  on  my 
part,  visits  received,  and  my  husband's  departure,  have  occupied 
the  days.  Thanks  to  the  falling  clouds,  old  mauma  can  come  to 
my  hearth  and  my  heart  to-day.  Cossetina,  this  is  your  ironing 
day  ;  so  go  now,  and  support  mauma  along  the  halls.  Put  a 
warm  shawl  about  her,  first.  Then,  about  twelve,  tell  Antony  to 
bring  us  up  a  nice  Innch,  with  tea  for  mauma.  Come  yourself, 
Cossetina,  and  lunch  with  us.  Bring  mauma  soon,  that  I  may 
have  a  long  conference  with  her." 

Before  the  little  maid  left  the  room,  she  placed  easy  chairs 
before  the  glowing  grate,  and  extended  her  care  to  the  corrections 
of  any  delinquences  in  her  morning's  work  about  Zaffiri's  chamber. 
Presently,  along  the  halls  were  heard  a  stumping  cane,  and  slow, 
shuffiing  steps,  with  little  peals  of  laughter,  and  a  cheery  young 
voice,  broken  into  sparkling  ejaculations. 

Cossetina  threw  open  the  door,  with  the  parade  of  an  usher  of 
royalty,  and  a  gleeful  '"'■  Eccomi!  Eccola  !  Eccoci !  Zaffiri  !^'  while  the 
sunny  light   of  her   native   skies  seemed   to  rest  upon  her  Italian 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  535 

face.  She  led  the  bent  form,  leaning  upon  her  stick,  up  to  her 
mistress,  chattering, — 

"  Vogliate  vol  bend  ire  mia  madre  miser  a  !  una  donna  buona  e  reli- 
giosay 

Zaffiri  gave  smilng  welcome  to  both. 

The  two  were  rare  natures  that  she  loved  to  have  clinging  about 
her.  She  took  mauma's  hand,  and  rose,  leading  her  to  a  low 
arm-chair,  on  the  warm  side  of  the  grate.  The  white,  blue-veined 
hand,  and  the  toil-worn,  withered  black  one  of  mauma,  met  in  an 
affectionate  clasp.  Mauma  held  the  fair  fingers,  but  hesitated. 
Zaffiri  waited  patiently,  while  her  admiring  eyes  fell  upon  the  new 
black  dress  ;  the  white  wool  blanket,  bound  with  white  silk,  pinned 
in  Quaker  neatness  close  about  the  neck,  and  the  quaint,  bright- 
hued  India  turban,  tastily  tied  about  her  head, —  all  the  gifts  of 
her  own  bounty  to  the  destitute  old  woman. 

"  Come,  mauma,  take  the  arm-chair,  and  sit  by  me !  Poor 
mother,"  at  length  spoke  Zaffiri. 

"  I  think  I  stand  here  before  my  dear  missis  ; "  and  her  meek, 
subdued  syes,  in  her  turn,  rested  with  wonder  and  amusement 
upon  the  beautiful  lady,  whose  voice  was  like  healing  balm  to  her 
bruised  spirit.     "  Mauma  never  have  set  down  before  a  lady." 

"  Will  mauma,  with  her  broken  back,  stand  leaning  on  her  stick 
before  Zaffiri  ?  "  she  exclaimed,  with  unfeigned  surprise.  "  I  arii 
shocked  at  the  idea!  If  there  be  any  respectful  standing  in  the 
case,  Zaffiri  will  stand  before  her  aged  mauma.  But  there  shall  be 
none.  Come  into  the  warm  easy-chair,  close  by  my  side.  Mauma 
shall  be  Zaffiri's  guest  and  friend  all  this  pouring,  rainy  day." 

The  old  woman  suffered  herself  to  be  led  along  and  seated. 
Cossetina  still  stood  in  the  floor  with  the  bright  shawl,  just  taken 
from  mauma's  shoulders,  over  her  arm,  directing  her  spoken 
thoughts  to  her  mistress. 

"  Faremi  eke  eila  fosse  pin  eke  la  nevebianca  !  Bella  a  vedere!  Car  a 
a  undire^ 

Mauma's  black,  but  sweet  face  turned  inquiringly  to  Zaffiri. 

*'What  is  the  birdie  saying?  She  has  been  chirruping  in  my  ear 
all  the  way  along.  I  think  I  hear  something  like  it  in  New 
Orleans  ;  it  might  have  been  a  mocking-bird's  song.  Mauma  dis- 
remember." 


536  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

"  She  is  chattering  Italian,  mauma,"  explained  Zaffiri.  *'Cosse- 
tina  lovs  her  own  tongue;  all  her  sweetest  thoughts  melt  into  it. 
Cossetina  loves  mauma.  She  calls  you  her  unhappy  mother.  She 
begs  me  to  please  you.  She  says  you  appear  to  her  whiter  than 
snow  ;  and  she  says  you  are  beautiful  to  see,  and  pleasant  to 
hear." 

"Dear  lady,  pardon  the  offense  —  but  black  as  I  am,  I  do  not 
suppose  old  mauma  is  less  acceptable  to  her  Maker  ;  but  with  His 
creatures  there  is  a  great  difference.  That  young  birdie  seems  not 
to  know.  " 

"Therejs  no  difference  with  me,"  said  Zaffiri  assuringly,  as  she 
knelt  upon  the  carpet  by  mauma's  chair,  and  folding  her  arms  about 
her,  kissed  her  wrinkled  cheek. 

Strangely  enough,  this  warmth  of  feeling  appeared  to  cheer 
its  recipient,  who  replied,  with  her  hand  raised  like  a  shield 
between  herself  and  the  kneeling  Zaffiri,  and  her  diamond  eyes  ; 
moist  with  feeling, — 

"  Mv  beautiful  child,  do  not  love  old  mauma  too  much.  All 
mauma  loves  on  this  earth  have  turned  to  bitter  gall.  The  Lord 
above  is  mauma's  portion  —  she  can  have  no  other.  But,  my  dear 
missis,  this  old  heart  has  found  a  new  burden  which  it  wishes  to 
lay  at  your  feet  to-day.  Old  age  is  upon  me,  I  may  die  before  I 
can  tell  you.     Can  the  singing  birdie  go,  missis?  " 

This  last  request  was  spoken  so  solemnly,  that  an  awe  crept  into 
Zaffiri's  spirit.     She  turned  to  her  maid. 

"  Go  now,  Cossetina.  Remember  to  send  Antony  with  the  lunch 
at  one,  instead  of  twelve.     Come  yourself." 

As  the  door  closed,  Zaffiri  drew  her  chair  close  to  mauma,  as- 
suring her  that  now  was  the  opportutity  to  say  what  she  wished. 

"  I  suppose  the  good  Master  Lambelle  has  explained  why  he 
bought  me  in  New  Orleans,  missis  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  he  said  he  found  you  on  the  street,  and  he  bought  you 
at  your  request.  Something  impelled  him  to  listen  to  your  peti- 
tion that  he  could  not  resist.  He  felt  himself  too  happy  in  being 
able  to  smooth  the  few  remaining  years  of  an  old  slave's  life." 

"  And  you,  my  beautiful  lady,  took  the  old  slave  to  your  home 
and  heart,  although  I  have  scarcely  seen  you  since  I  landed  from 
the  ship  that  brought  me  here,  in  New  York.     But  mauma  knows, 


WHITE    MAY,    ANb    BLACK   JUNE.  537 

mauma  knows.  Missis  has  been  traveling  and  entertaining ;  all 
her  time  has  been  full."  She  laid  her  hand  upon  Zaffiri's  knee. 
"  Now  will  de  dear  missis  'low  the  old  slave  to  tell  her  the  story  ? 
It  may  be  tiresome  to  the  blessed  lady,  but  mauma  must  tell  all  ; 
can't  pick  out  some  here,  some  there  or,  ma3'be,  she  lose  part." 

"  Relate  all  as  pleases  you  best,"  said  Zaffiri.  "I  shall  be  inter- 
ested in  every  event  of  your  life." 

"I  must  tell  dear  missis  how  I  come  here,  first." 

"Yes,  mauma,  proceed." 

"  Thank,  missis.  I  was  not  raised  in  New  Orleans ;  but  since  I 
was  there,  I  will  tell  missis  I  grew  old  in  that  city,  that  I  fell  over 
backwards  from  the  chair  on  which  I  stood  to  clean  my  master's 
cupboard,  and  broke  this  back.  I  had  the  doctor's  care,  because  I 
was  -a  valuable  slave,  and  to  lose  me,  or  to  have  me  become  dis- 
abled, was  the  same  to  master  as  to  lose  a  valuable  horse.  But, 
my  dear  missis,  the  back  would  not  cure,  and  they  cursed  me  for 
falling,  and  beat  me  because  I  could  not  v/alk  about  quick,  and  do 
the  work  I  did  before.  But  the  Lord  helped  me  ;  I  lived  through 
all.  When  age  come  on  me,  my  dear  missis,  this  back  got  weak 
and  painful,  so  sometimes  it  appeared  I  must  die.  Then  my 
owners  got  hard  on  the  poor  old  slave,  and  wanted  to  get  me  o^ 
their  hands.  Nobody  would  buy  me,  so  they  made  me  sell  in  the 
street." 

"  Dear  me  !  mauma,  what  could  you  sell  ? "  sorrowfully  asked 
Zaffiri. 

"  Oh  !  I  could  sell  great  many  things  they  have  there.  I  could 
sit  on  a  bench,  and  sell  from  a  little  tray  ;  but  I  could  not  carry 
round  on  my  head,  and  cry,  berries  and  fruit  !  like  others.  I  sold 
ground  nuts  and  ground-nut  cakes,  made  up  with  boiled  molasses. 
I  could  done  very  well,  and  carried  home  my  'lowance  every  night, 
if  ever3-body  was  honest,  and  the  boys  didn't  steal." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  carrying  home  your  allowance  ? " 

"  You  don't  know  the  slave-masters'  ways,  missis.  Dey  make 
we  old,  worn-out  ones  sell  and  bring  home  every  night  to  them,  so 
much  money  —  so  many  picayunes.  If  we  don't  carry  the  owners 
just  what  they  say,  then  they  whip  us,  and  give  us  no  supper." 

"  Poor  mauma !  did  they  whip  you  if  you  failed  to  bring  back 
the  amount  of  money }  you,  with  gray  hair  and  a  broken  back  ? " 


538  WHITE   MAY,   AI!D   BLACK   JUNE. 

"They  did  beat  me,  dear  missis.  Under  this  beautiful  dress  and 
this  fine  flannel  you  gave  me,  you  can  see  the  welts  of  their  lash. 
I  dreaded  the  whipping  so  much.  My  sisters  in  the  church,  better 
off  than  I  was,  used  to  give  me  pennies  and  picayunes,  nights,  to 
make  out  the  money  for  master,  before  I  dared  to  go  home." 

"  Mauma !  "  cried  Zaffici,  in  a  tortured  voice.  "  Mauma,  were 
your  owners  rich  and  in  high  life.?  Did  they  boast  the  blue  and 
gentle  blood  of  the  ancient  chivalry  who  were  the  defenders  of  the 
oppressed  ? " 

"  My  beautiful  missis,  they  were  rich,  had  plenty  of  slaves,  sugar- 
cane fields,  sugar  house  and  cotton  fields,  had  grand  house,  grand 
furniture,  horses  handsome  and  plenty,  carriages,  silver  everywhere  ; 
and,  I  hear  Miss  Alice,  Miss  Sally,  and  Miss  Jane  talk  about  that 
'high  blood'  and  'blue  blood'  and  'proud  blood.'  Yes!  -they 
rich,  missis,  but  they  make  me  sell,  and  whip  me,  all  the  same." 

"How  could  you  endure  so  much,  mauma?" 

"The  Lord  help  me  to  live,  I  think,  dear  missis,  to  come  to  you, 
at  last.  Well,  after  a  long  sickness,  I  caught  in  the  street  in  the 
rain  ;  my  owners  told  me  to  find  a  buyer  for  a  hundred  dollars ; 
they  couldn't  find  a  buyer  on  the  auction-table  or  anywhere  else 
for  half  as  much.  I  tried  a  long  time  in  vain.  I  wanted  a  buyer 
for  this  poor  old  body.  I  thought  a  new  owner  might  not  be  too 
cruel." 

"None  would  buy?  none  had  mercy?  "  questioned  Zaffiri. 

"No  mercy  is  in  New  Orleans,  dear  missis;  but  one  morning  I 
prayed  to  de  Lord  to  take  mercy  on  me,  an  old  slave.  I  prayed 
on  my  knees,  with  tears  on  my  face,  and  with  my  old  hands  wring- 
ing before  the  White  Throne,  that  some  kind  master  would  buy 
me.  I  went  out  with  my  tray  of  ground-nut  cakes  and  my  bag  of 
nuts,  sat  down  on  my  bench,  and  looked  in  the  face  of  all  who 
bought  from  the  tray.  Some  were  boys  and  some  girls ;  a  few 
were  men,  but  their  faces  were  cruel  and  hard.  At  last,  a  gentle- 
man stopped  on  his  walk,  and  said  pleasantly, — 

'''Mauma,  give   me  a  cup  of  ground  nuts.' 

"  The  price  was  little,  but  he  laid  down  two  silver  quarters,  and 
he  spoke  with  a  gentle  voice, — 

'"You  are  old,  mauma;  take  that  for  yourself,  for  your  own 
comfort.' 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  539 

"I  looked  up  into  his  face  — it  was  kind  and  pitiful ;  then  I  said 
to  myself  'This  gentleman  was  never  a  slave-master  ;  his  hand  and 
heart  must  be  good.  I  will  ask  him  to  buy  me,  for  the  Lord  helps 
them  that  help  themselves.'  Then  I  held  up  my  hands  to  him  I 
said  '  Old  mauma  must  be  sold,  too.  Will  the  good  gentleman  buy 
me .''  J,  can  tend  the  kitchen  fire,  wash  dishes,  baste  the  roast,  and 
wash  vegetables.  I  am  cruelly  beaten  some  nights  'cause  I  cannot 
carry  home  my  'lowance  of  money  to  master.  But  I  will  try  to 
earn  my  little  bacon  and  hominy  in  your  kitchen.  I  can  make  hoe- 
cake  or  a  pound-cake  to  please  the  taste  of  any  gentleman  or  lady  ; 
but  this  old  back  is  broke,  and  I  cannot  do  more.'  I  still  held  up 
my  hands  to  plead  with  him  ;  the  tears  fell  down  my  face. 

"  '  I  am  a  Northern  "man,  old  mauma,'  he  said.  *I  do  not  buy 
slaves." 

"  Buy  me,  then,  kind  master.  Old  mauma  will  take  some  little 
corner  in  your  large  house.  Buy  me,  kind  master  ;  and  if  you  or 
your  lady  is  sick,  old  mauma  will  watch  by  your  bedside  all  the 
long  night.  If  you  have  children,  old  mauma  can  sing  lullaby,  and 
hush  them  to  sleep.  She  has  been  house-servant,  lady's  maid  and 
nurse.     Then  I  saw  his  eyes  were  wet,  and  he  said, — 

"  '  Can  you  go  in  the  ship  a  thousand  miles  .«* ' 

"  I  said,— 

"'Yes,  master,  I  came  here  on  a  ship.' 

"Then  he  thought  awhile,  and  said, — 

"'I  am  going  now,  but  will  come  back  this  evening.  Comfort 
your  heart  to-day.     I  think  you  will  go  with  me.' 

"  I  warn  him  not  to  buy  me  himself.  Our  people  hate  Yankees, 
and  they  would  not  sell  to  him.  Told  him  to  get  the  agent  to  buy 
for  him." 

"  Yes,  that  was  an  excellent  ruse,"  said  Zaffiri.  "  My  good  hus- 
band told  the  slave-dealer  that  he  was  from  Texas,  and  wanted 
you  as  an  old  nurse  for  an  invalid  —  and  he  was  just  from  Texas 
on  his  way  home,  by  land  across  the  country." 

"  Sure,  missis,  the  good  master  came  back  in  the  evening,  and 
said  the  agent  had  bought  me  for  him  ;  that  he  should  send  a 
carriage  for  me  to  go  on  board  the  New  York  ship  ;  but  I  warn 
him  to  send  a  mule-cart  for  a  poor  old  slave.  How  I  thanked  him, 
and  the  blessed  Lord  above  ;  but  he  told  me  be  calm  and  show  no 


540  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

joy,  and  he  would  be  on  the  wharf  waiting  for  me.  He  did  what 
he  said  and  more.  He  brought  blankets,  and  a  shawl,  and  a 
warm  hood  for  the  passage.  So  I  am  here,  dear  missis.  And 
when  I  look  at  the  pretty  warm  room  you  gave  me,  and  this 
beautiful  black  dress,  and  all  I  have,  I  cry,  and  pray  God  to  bless 
you  both,  and  to  give  you  all  your  heart's  desire  in  this  world,  and 
a  reward  in  the  next." 

Zaffiri  sat  absorbed  in  the  old  woman's  feelings — in  her  sorrows 
and  joys  —  this  was  a  phase  of  the  purchase  she  could  hear  from  no 
other  lips.  She  brushed  away  a  few  tears,  and  took  mauma's  hand, 
holding  it  in  both  of  hers,  and  said  soothingly, — 

"  Mauma,  I  have  all  I  can  wish  in  this  world,  pertaining  to  my 
happiness,  but  one  thing.  I  have  not  the  power  to  give  freedom 
to  any  slave  that  bows  under  the  yoke  of  bondage  ;  that  would  be 
a  supreme  felicity.  It  is  a  constant  pleasure  to  know  that  the  last 
remnant  of  your  life  will  be  free ;  but  that  satisfaction  is  embit- 
tered by  the  recollection  of  the  sorrows  and  wrongs  of  millions  yet 
unredressed." 

"Nobody  but  God,  my  dear  missis,  can  set  all  free.  We  believe 
that  sometime  and  somehow,  He  will  do  that,  because  we  pray  to 
Him,  day  and  night,  and  our  groans  go  up  before  Him.  Oh  1  my 
missis,  the  Lord  will  hear.  He  made  us  ;  we  are  His  children  — 
the  work  of  His  hands.  That  whole  South  is  Ramah,  where,  as 
the  Bible  says,  there  is  a  great  voice  heard  of  lamentation,  weep- 
ing, and  great  mourning.  Rachel  weeping  for  her  children.  O 
blessed  Jesus !  we  are  all  Rachels.  Missis,  mauma  has  had  ten 
children;  all  sold  to  the  trader;  boys  —  girls  —  all  gone.  Me  one 
left  alone.     ]\Iissis,  God  must  hear." 

The  conversation  had  a  welcome  interruption,  by  Antony  and 
Cossetina,  with  a  delightful  lunch.  The  latter  flew  for  a  nest  of 
gilded  Chinese  tables;  placing  one  before  each,  chirruping,  as 
usual,  her  mellifluous  tongue. 

"Mauma,"  said  Antony,  as  he  waited  for  the  tables,  "you  is 
queen,  now,  in  dis  house.  T'ank  de  Lord  you  will  never  suffer  no 
mo'." 

Zaffiri  poured  Mauma's  tea  with  her  own  hand,  and  filled  her 
plate  with  luxuries.  Cossetina's  laugh  and  chatter  made  music 
with  the  rain  on  the  panes,  till  the  banquet  was  over. 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  54I 

Left  alone  again,  Zaffiri  remarked, — 

"The  rain  still  pours.     Mauma,  the  afternoon  will  be  ours. 

"Thank  the  good  Lord  for  this  opportunity;  for,  my  dear  lady, 
ever  since  I  saw  your  sweet  face  and  looked  into  your  eyes,  I 
have  been  carried  back  to  years  long  ago.  I  have  lived  over  again 
forgotten  events.  There  is  a  tanglement  in  all  this ;  a  troublesome 
suspicion,  and  a  burden  that  weighs  heavily  upon  my  thoughts.  I 
must  spread  all  before  you,  and  beg  your  help." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  mauma ;  but  if  I  can,  under  your  aid, 
I  shall  do  so.     Take  your  own  course." 

"  No  !  the  dear  missis  don't  understand.  She  can't  dream  these 
old  arms  might  possibly  have  held  her  when  she  was  a  crowing 
babe.  She  can't  dream  that  this  cracked  old  voice  has  ever  hushed 
her  blue  eyes  to  sleep  with  a  lullaby." 

Zaffiri  changed  color.     With  blanched  face  and  startled  eyes,  she 

replied, — 

"That    is    impossible,   mauma.     I   have   never   been    in    New 

Orleans." 

"  It  seems  impossible,  and  possible  both  to  mauma.  The  strange 
idea  wakes  me  out  of  my  sleep  o'night.  I  study  and  study  about 
it.  Then  I  say,  '  No  !  no  !  it  cannot  be  ! '  Then,  a  darlin'  little 
face,  with  violet  eyes,  with  waxen  skin,  and  cheeks  and  chin  in  the 
color  of  the  rose  leaf,  laughs  out  way  down  in  my  feeble  memory, 
and  crows  out,  '  Yes  !  yes  ! ' 

"Dear,  darlin'  missis,  don't  turn  so  white!  Old  mauma  will 
hush.  Maybe  old  mauma's  brain  is  turned  with  too  much  joy. 
Mauma  will   hush.     There,   take   the  salts ;   they  will  revive   my 

blessed  child." 

The  old  creature  had  brought  this  restorative  before  Zaffiri  had 
observed  her  movements,  so  completely  was  she  stunned  by  her 
unexpected  words.  She  quickly  took  the  bottle  from  mauma's 
hand,  and,  in  a  prolonged  revery,  strove  to  decide  whether  those 
sentences  were  the  delirious  fancies  of  a  harmless  and  happy 
dotage,  or  whether  the  withered  oracular  finger  of  the  old  slave 
was  *about  to  rend  the  veil  which  had  overclouded  her  past  —  a 
past,  within  which  she  had  vainly  striven  to  look.  Determined  to 
thread  the  labyrinth  further,  she  said  to  mauma, — 


542  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  Mauma,  where  was  you  born  ?  Where  did  you  spend  the  early 
part  of  your  life  ? " 

"I  was  born  in  South  Carolina,  missis.  I  was  raised  in  Charles- 
ton, mostly,"  she  answered  unobtrusively,  measuring  the  reply 
squarely  by  the  question. 

"  When  w^ere  you  sold  to  New  Orleans  ?  " 

"After  I  was  settled  woman,  missis." 

"What  was  the  character  and  standing  of  your  owners?  " 

"  They  were  religious.     I  belonged  to  one  of  the  first  families." 

Zaffiri,  fearing  she  might  betray  too  much  interest  by  this  system 
of  catechising  the  wise  old  mauma,  said  indulgently, — 

"Proceed  mauma,  as  you  choose  in  your  history.  Your  own 
suggestions  will  be  much  better  than  questioning.  I  will  bring  my 
crochet  work." 

She  brought  her  basket  of  bright  colors,  finding  in  them  and 
her  needle  an  excellent  means  of  concealment  for  the  uncontroll- 
able agitation  which  caused  every  nerve  to  vibrate.  She  drew  the 
orange,  browns  and  greens  over  her  hand,  as  if  to  compare  quali- 
ties, and  said, — 

"  I  am  ready  now." 

"  Old  mauma  must  beg  pardon  first  for  her  great  offence  to  her 
best  friend  on  earth,  for  making  her  turn  pale  and  faint.  It  is 
only  an  old  slave's  memory  waking  up,  and  may  be,  not  half  wake 
either,  and  my  dear  missis  look  so  like  one  sweet  bud  of  a  babe 
old  mauma  held  on  her  knees,  long  years  ago." 

"  You  have  committed  no  offence.  I  am  accustomed  to  faint 
sometimes.  I  desire,  to  know  your  experience  in  life,  that  I  may 
give  you  my  sympathy  in  your  last  days.  Mauma  have  no  fear ; 
unburden  your  mind  freely." 

"Then  I  wall  obey.  I  w-as  the  child  of  an  African  woman 
brought  over  to  Charleston  in  the  slave-ship.  I  am  nearly  as  dark 
as  she  was.  She  was  put  in  the  rice  field.  But  when  I  was  a 
young  girl  in  the  rice  fields,  too,  her  master  came  to  the  plantation 
to  see  the  overseer,  and  'range  the  house  for  his  residence  that  win- 
ter. He  was  walking  along  the  banks  one  day,  and  noticed  me. 
The  next  day,  overseer  sent  me  up  to  the  big  house  for  house- 
servant.  My  master  was  not  married,  and  make  me  his  black 
wife.     I  lived   with  him  four  years,  and  he  spent  all  his  winters  at 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  543 

the  plantation.  If  he  traveled  in  the  summer,  I  stayed  and  kept 
the  house.  If  he  spent  the  summer  at  Charleston  —  he  had  a  fine 
house  there  —  he  took  me  with  him." 

Zaffiri  stopped  crocheting  and  exclaimed, — 

"  Mauma,  how  can  those  Southerners  excite  the  North  to  such 
an  unholy  prejudice  against  color,  when  they  choose  their  wives 
from  their  slaves,  and  even  from  the  children  of  native  Afri- 
cans ? " 

"  They  choose  us  because  they  love  us,  but  they  never  tell  the 
North  about  these  things." 

"  Mauma,  tell  me,  did  you  love  your  master  ? "  asked  Zaffiri, 
dropping  her  needle. 

"  Yes,  missis,  I  must  confess  I  loved  him,  because  he  loved  me. 
He  bought  me  dresses,  and  ear-rings,  and  beautiful  white  muslin 
handkerchiefs  for  turbans,  sprinkled  over  with  flowers.  I  had  fine 
furniture  in  our  room  —  and  that  was  one  of  the  handsome  cham- 
bers. I  was  his  wife,  missis,  and  all  the  rice  hands  called  me 
so." 

"  Had  you  children  ? " 

"  I  had  three  handsome  brown  boys,  and  a  nurse  for  them. 
What  I  tell  you  next,  missis,  made  my  heart  ache  for  years ;  but 
thank  the  good  Lord,  all  the  pains  and  aches  have  gone  way  now. 
All  the  loves  of  this  cold  earth  have  gone  far  off  with  the  weeks, 
the  months,  and  the  years.  I  have  a  rest  in  my  soul  now.  After 
a  few  happy  years,  my  master  had  me  sit  dowu  by  him,  and  told 
me  he  was  going  to  get  married ;  that  I  must  go  to  Charleston 
and  live  in  a  small  house,  or  part  of  a  house  he  had  rented  for  me  : 
that  I  could  support  myself  there,  and  he  would  not  require 
monthly  wages.  He  talk  to  me  as  if  all  that  was  necessary  was 
to  say  what  he  wished,  and  I  should  be  satisfied.  But,  my  dear 
missis,  although  I  knew  it  mi^sf  de  so,  the  tears  run  down  my  face 
all  night.  And  what  to  do  with  my  pretty  boys  ?  Two  should 
stay  on  the  plantation  and  learn  to  be  coachman  and  butler.  I 
begged  for  one  to  go  with  me,  and  he  consent  to  hire  him  out  in 
Charleston. 

"  When  I  was  putting  my  dresses  and  clothes  in  the  box  to  go, 
master  said, — 

"  '  Oh  Molly,  it  will  be  the  same.     I  shall  be  in  Charleston  half 


544  WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

the  time,  and  I  shall  come  to  see  you  often.  Cheer  up,  Molly.  Go 
to  Charleston,  and  wait  for  me.' 

"  So  he  married,  and  a  rich  white  lady  took  my  place." 

"  Did  he  visit  you  in  your  Charleston  home  ?  "  asked  Zaffiri, 
horrified  at  the  revelation  of  inconsistency. 

"  Yes,  missis,  he  come  often,  and  was  as  pleased  to  see  me  as 
ever.  I  had  five  more  children  in  Charleston  —  for  I  was  his  black 
wife  still.  Nanc}^  Molly,  Jane,  Ed  and  Sam.  Molly  and  Jane 
were  like  their  father ;  tall,  handsome,  just  a  little  brown,  with 
long,  curly  hair,  teeth  white  as  milk,  large  dark  brown  eyes,  and 
black,  heavy  lashes.  They  had  their  father's  high,  proud  nose, 
and  small  proud  mouth  ;  his  pride  was  in  his  step." 

She  uttered  a  low,  unconscious  groan,  and  relapsed  into  silence, 
gazing  abstractedly  upon  the  working  of  her  fingers  lying  upon  her 
lap. 

"And  you  are  childless  now,  dear  mauma!  "  said  Zaffiri,  bend- 
ing over,  and  resting  her  white  hand  on  the  old  slave's  knee. 

Slowly  bringing  her  mind  back  to  the  present,  she  raised  her 
eyes  to  Zaffiri,  replying, — 

"  Yes,  missis,  yes  ;  all  gone  ;  got  nothing  in  this  world  ;  nothing 
but  a  few  days  freedom ;  got  Jesus,  and  the  white  robe  in  the 
next." 

"  What  became  of  3"our  master  ? " 

"Don't  know  what  'came  of  him,  but  will  tell  dear  missis  what 
'came  of  me.  He  come  to  see  me  one  day,  when  he  had  been 
married  about  ten  years ;  and  brought  news  that  his  wife  was  dead, 
and  that  he  should  take  his  son  to  Europe  the  next  year,  when  he 
would  be  ten  years  old.  He  would  put  him  to  school  in  France. 
When  the  year  come  round,  he  was  not  quite  ready  to  go,  and  one 
day  in  July  he  come  and  said, — 

'"Molly,  I'm  going  to  send  you  a  new  boarder.  Will  you  take 
it?" 

"What  kin^  of  a  boarder  will  stay  with  Molly?  the  best  room 
is  master's,  and  the  children  have  the  others." 

"  '  This  boarder  will  stay  in  the  room  with  you,  Molly.  It  will  be 
a  little  infant  for  you  to  nurse  and  raise.' 

"We  were  alone  in   our  room." 

Then  old  mauma's  memory  wandered  away  into  a  description  of 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  £45 

its  furniture  ;  her  old  face  grew  sunny,  unconsciously,  under  the 
electrical  power  of  the  happy  recollection. 

"  Our  room  was  furnished  in  good  style,  missis.  Master  put  in 
it  a  solid  mahogany  bedstead,  mahogany  table,  and  elegant 
mahogany  wardrobe  ;  stuffed  chairs,  and  a  rich  carpet,  covered  with 
roses  ;  handsome  lace  curtains  inside  the  paper  ones ;  sofa,  glass 
drop-lamps,  and  everything  nice." 

"Is  it  true,  mauma !  It  seems  to  me  he  would  not  furnish  a 
slave-wife's  bedchamber  in  so  costly  a  manner.  " 

"  True  as  de  Bible,  missis.  Masters  are  proud  and  love  their 
black  wiie.  Those  men  are  not  obliged  to  take  us  for  wife. 
Nobody  can  make  a  Southern  gentleman  do  what  he  don't  choose. 
They  choose  their  wife,  they  want  handsome  room,  and  they  make 
them  beautiful.  But  I  forget  my  story — ^does  it  rain  hard, 
missis?" 

"Yes,  mauma;  no  one  will  ring  our  bell  to-day." 

"  What  did  I  say  last,  missis  ?  " 

"  You  said  you  and  your  master  were  alone  in  your  room." 

"  True,  missis ;  I  done  forgot  \ve  were  alone,  and  master  told 
me  to  turn  the  key.     Then  he  said, — 

'  I  shall  probably  bring  a  little  infant  here  soon.  Now,  Molly,  I 
will  make  you  an  offer  or  a  promise,  and  you  shall  make  me  a 
promise  ;  if  you  keep  yours  I  will  keep  mine.  My  promise  is,  that 
I  will  give  you  your  freedom  and  take  you  North  out  of  harm's 
way,  after  you  have  fulfilled  yours.  Your  promise  is,  that  you  will 
nurse  and  raise  this  child,  swearing  never  to  reveal  who  brought  it 
here  or  when  it  came.  You  have  cunning  enough.  When  you  take 
it  on  the  street,  airing,  if  you  are  questioned,  say  you  are  nurse  for 
a  Northern  lady  tarrying  in  the  city.  Swear  to  me,  Molly,  to  keep 
this  secret,  and  I  will  swear  to  you,  your  freedom,  when  the  child 
will  be  sent  for  and  you  give  it  up.' " 

"  I  promise  on  my  part,  and  know  I  could  keep  it. 

"About  three  weeks  after,  a  carriage  drove  up  to  my  door  at 
midnight.     Master  came  in  with  a  basket  in  his  hand,  and  said, — 

'  Here,  Molly,  take  your  charge  and  take  good  care  !  ' 

"He  went  away  again,  but  told  me,  the  next  day  that  he  should 
leave  for  France  in  about  two  weeks.  He  did  go ;  I  tended  the 
little  girl  j    it  grew  beautiful  every  day ;    and  it  was  pure  white 


54^  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

blood.  I  knew  it  was  my  master's  child  —  it  look  like  him.  It  had 
the  same  look  my  children  had  —  my  handsome  girls.  It  was  his 
child,  I  knew  in  my  own  soul,  and  he  had  got  into  trouble.  I 
named  her  Pearl.  Nobody  found  out  my  secret.  Dear  missis,  I 
wanted  freedom,  and  I  was  glad  to  earn  it  so  easy.  Everybody 
stop  to  admire  and  pet  my  baby  on  the  street ;  everybody  say, 
'  What  lily  skin  !  what  sky  blue  eyes!  Then  they  said, 'That  red 
hair  will  be  wavy  auburn  when  she  is  young  lady  ! ' " 

An  overshadowing  premonition  seemed  to  chain  the  lips  of  Zaffiri 
as  she  bent  her  head,  searching  over  her  worsteds,  and  plunged  her 
fingers  into  the  bright  colors  of  her  work,  raising  them  to  the  dull, 
gray  light. 

"  Had  her  father,  as  you  suppose  5^our  master  was,  red  hair  ? " 
she  carelessly  asked, — 

"Why,  missis,  I  knew  he  was  her  father.  After  he  went  to 
France,  I  used  to  run  up  to  his  grand  house  in  Charleston,  to  see 
the  servants  that  he  left  there  to  take  care.  Once,  I  saw  there 
the  old  housekeeper  from  the  plantation  —  she  was  there  over 
ni^ht  —  she  had  come  down  to  be  hired  out  in  the  citv.  She  told  me 
after  master  went  to  France,  a  gentleman  from  Alabama  came  to  the 
next  plantation,  and  wanted  to  fight  a  duel  with  my  master.  He 
got  so  angry,  walked  the  room  with  a  pistol  in  his  hand,  till  he 
said  he  would  shoot  him  at  sight.  It  was  his  sister  that  visited  at 
that  plantation  a  year  before  —  splendid  young  lady,  with  red  hair 
curling  down  her  fair  neck  and  shoulders.  She  said  master  was 
over  there  a  great  deal ;  and  the  servants  told  her  she  was  engaged 
to  be  married  to  master;  but  something  happened  that  she  cried  a 
great  deal,  and,  from  what  the  servants  overheard,  her  father  had 
lost  property.  Now,  I  know  master  wouldn't  marry  a  white  wife, 
unless  she  had  a  power  of  money.  His  white  wife  that  took  my 
place,  brought  him  two  hundred  thousand  dollars. 

"  So,  missis,  I  said  nothing  to  the  housekeeper  when  she  told 
me,  but  I  knew  whose  child  I  was  totin'  round.  I  knew  whose 
beautiful  red  hair  growed  on  my  little  darlin's  head.  I  kept  my 
promise,  till  little  Pearl  was  toddling  round  on  her  little  feet  and 
holding  on  to  mauma's  finger,  calling  mauma,  mauma !  Then  a 
man  came  and  said  he  had  a  letter  from  master  ;  it  was  all  sealed  ; 
he  said  he  would  read  it  to  me.      The  letter  said  I  could  have 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  547 

freedom  now  ;  that  master  was  in  New  York  waiting  for  me,  to  give 
me  free  papers,  and  that  the  boat  would  leave  that  night.  I  must 
get  ready  and  go  down  to  the  wharf  after  dark,  and  that  I  might 
take  my  five  children  with  me.  The  gentleman  said  he  would  come 
in  the  afternoon,  and  take  little  Pearl  to  another  nurse.  How 
happy  I  was,  packing  up  our  clothes,  and  packing  up  little  Pearl 
baby's  beautiful  dresses,  and  cloaks,  and  lace  caps." 

"  Mauma,  you  must  have  been  sorry  to  part  with  the  fair  little 
child  !  "  ventured  Zaffiri.  "  She  must  have  wound  herself  into  your 
affections." 

"  I  loved  her  more  than  I  can  tell,  missis,  and  I  loved  her  ever 
since  ;  but  I  said  to  myself,  '  She  is  white  and  fair,  she  will  grow 
up  a  lady,  her  father  will  give  her  money.'  So  I  trust  her  to  the 
Lord,  and  turned  round  to  my  own  children.  The  gentleman 
came  in  the  evening  to  take  me  and  my  children  to  the  New  York 
boat ;  he  walked,  to  show  us  the  way,  and  put  us  aboard  —  said 
the  boxes  would  go  in  the  cart." 

"  Oh !  my  dear  missis,  the  stone  pavements  that  night,  seemed 
to  be  velvet  to  Molly's  feet.  The  street  lamps  and  the  lighted 
windows  'peared  like  an  illumination  for  the  freedom  of  Molly  and 
her  children.  We  took  a  small  boat,  and  rowed  out  to  the  ship, 
rocking  on  the  waves.  The  gentleman  gave  us  seats  on  the  deck, 
went  out  to  the  captain,  and  talked  with  him  in  a  low  tone,  and  re- 
turned to  the  city.  Charleston  looked  so  beautiful,  lying  low  on 
the  water,  sparkling  with  thousands  of  lights.  The  land  breeze 
was  strong,  and  we  soon  left  it  behind,  and  bore  away  down  the 
bay,  over  the  bar,  and  out  to  sea  under  the  stars.  Then  the  cap- 
tain came  and  said,  with  his  rough  voice, — 

"'Go  down  below.' 

"We  went  below.  O  my  blessed  Jesus  !  what  did  Molly  and  her 
children  see !  Hundreds  of  slaves,  crying,  groaning,  praying ; 
men,  women,  and  babies  ;  young  and  old ;  some  chained  by  hands  ; 
some  by  hands  and  feet ;  some  on  the  floor,  crying,  *  God  have 
mercy  /" 

"  Then  I  said, — 

"  *  Where  all  you  going  ?  ' 

"*  We  goin'  where  jw/  goin'  —  to  New  Orleans.' 

"  Then  I  faint  way,  and  fall  on  the  floor,  too.     My  children  cr}^, 


54^  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

and  say,  *  We  goin'  to  New  York.'  The  trader  come  down  with 
his  black  whip,  and  hush  everybody.  So  Molly  and  her  children 
were  sold  to  New  Orleans.  We  were  all  put  on  the  block  at  New 
Orleans.  My  beautiful  girls  were  bought  by  the  rich,  white,  young 
planters  for  their  wives.  My  boys,  Ed  and  Sam,  were  sold  too, 
and  carried  off  another  way.     That's  all,  missis.     That's  all." 

"  Where  were  you  sold,  mauma  .'* " 

"  I  ?  I  was  sold  for  lady's-maid  then,  and  been  sold  since  for 
nurse  ;  then,  mauma  sell  in  street." 

This  she  spoke  with  an  absent  air,  as  if  mind  and  thought  had 
gone  out  in  a  vague  seeking  after  her  lost  children. 

For  a  time,  both  sat  silent.  Zaffiri  was  in  suspense,  whether  to 
question  further  tjie  fate  of  the  blue-eyed  Pearl,  or  to  wait  till  the 
arrival  of  her  husband.  A  sudden  sno^a^estion  arose,  that  if  old 
mauma  should  really  know  the  names  of  families  and  streets  in 
Charleston,  it  would  confirm  her  story.  Then,  what  was  her  mas- 
ter's name ,?  it  had  not  been  mentioned,  and  it  had  not  occured  to 
Zaffiri  to  ask.  Every  event  remained  so  vividly  impressed  on  the 
old  woman's  memor}'',  might  she  not  recollect  some  German  names? 
keepers  of  the  numerous  groceries  ? 

"  I  will  venture  to  ask.  I  shall  be  satisfied  ;  and  my  purpose 
cannot  be  suspected." 

She  strove  to  assume  a  calm,  indifferent  air,  and  broke  the  still- 
ness by  asking, — 

"  Mauma,  do  you  remember  any  German  names  of  the  times 
when  you  were  in  Charleston?  My  husband  is  a  wholesale  mer- 
chant, and  he  might  know  the  large  firms." 

"  Oh  !  true,  dear  missis,  mauma  remembers." 

The  clear  sunlight  of  former  happiness  seemed  to  have  photo- 
graphed indelibly  every  scene  and  figure  upon  the  tablet  of  her 
past.  She  ran  over  a  list  of  the  hard  names,  and  lo  !  there  dropped 
from  her  facile  lips  the  fateful  one  of  '  Deiderich  Weintze.' 

"  Did  you  know  Mr.  Weintze,  mauma  ?  Mr.  Lambelle  has  had 
dealings  with  him." 

"  Know  him  well,  missis.  His  grocery  was  on  the  corner  of  the 
street  where  I  staj^ed.  He  was  not  too  young  then  ;  must  be 
old  now  if  he  is  living.  Master  send  in  there  for  best  brand  of 
cigars." 


WHITE   MAY,   A^B   BLACK   JUNE.  549 

"Mauma  has  not  mentioned  her  master's  name." 

"  Master's  name  was  '  Warham/  and  his  white  son's  name  was 
Frederick  Warham.     He  went  to  France  with  his  father,  missis." 

The  name  of  Frederick  Warham  struck  a  new  chord  in  which 
her  own  memory  assisted.  Her  face  burned  crimson.  Could  it  be 
the  same  ?  Was  mauma's  Frederick  Warham  the  same  Frederick 
Warham?  Was  ^/lis  one  her  graceful  and  gentlemanly  attendant 
at  General  Terreceine's  grsLudjoiree  in  St.  Louis  ?  Was  this  the 
gentleman  who  never  left  her"  side  the  whole  evening  ?  on  whose 
arm  she  leaned  in  the  fragrant  gardens,  and  who,  kneeling  by  her 
fainting  form,  which  had  slid  away  from  him  to  the  floor,  chafed  her 
hands  tenderly  ?  He,  too,  was  from  Carolina.  Then  there  flashed 
back  to  memory  the  careless  remark  which  fell  upon  her  ear  that 
evening,  and  died  as  quickly. 

"  By  Jove  !  their  resemblance  is  strong  enough  to  he  of  the  same  fam- 
ily—  of  the  same  bloods 

Mauma  threw  a  fond  glance  upon  her,  and  turned  away,  relaps- 
ing into  melancholy.  Zafhri  was  touched  by  the  rigid  silence  re- 
garding herself,  which  mauma  had  maintained,  since,  with  hurried 
and  tottering  steps,  she  brought  her  the  salts  ;  and  her  resolve  was 

made. 

"  Mauma,  look  at  me,"  she  said  excitedly.  "  Can  you  keep  a 
secret,  as  you  kept  that  one  of  your  master's  ?  I  cannot  offer  you 
freedom  —  that  is  yours  already  —  but  for  my  sake,  can  you  keep 

my  secret  ? "  •  j- 

"  Mauma  can  keep  a  secret  as  well  as  ever,  and  will,  till  she  die. 

All  a  poor  old  slave  can  do  for  her  beautiful  missis." 

Zaf&ri   tossed  her  worsteds  in  confusion  upon  the    carpet,  and 

after  some  delay,  said, — 

"Keep    my    secret,    mauma.      Zaffiri   ie  a    slave — a    Southern 

slave  r^ 

"No!  no  !  she  is  a  born  lady,  with  blue  veins,  blue  eyes,  and 
long,  fair  hair  !  She  is  a  born  lady  !  If  the  dear  lady  had  not  the 
fair  hair,  I  think  I  found  Molly's  high-born  Pearl  —  Master  War- 
ham's  Pearl.     Little   Pearl   had   high   blood,   proud   blood,   blue 

blood."  .    ^  . 

"  I  insist,  mauma,  Zaffiri  is  a  slave  I  If  her  owners,  or  his  hens, 
could  find  her,  she  could  be  carried  back  to  chains  again,  and  sold 


550  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

on  the  auction-block.  And  more,  mauma,"  holding  up  her  hands 
with  a  gesture  of  horror,  "she  is  a  slave  by  the  Constitution  —  a 
slave  by  United  States  law.  All  in  this  house  are  free,  except 
Zaffiri  —  except  me.  No!  no  !  Antony  and  Zaffiri  are  slaves  ;  but 
Antony  don't  know.  Keep  my  secret,  mauma ;  keep  the  terrible 
truth  for  viy  sake,  dear  mauma."' 

''  Mauma  will  keep  that  awful  secret  with  her  life,"  she  answered, 
with  awe  struck  face  and  a  solemn  tone  ;  "  but  tell  me  why,  dear 
missis  is  not  free  in  a  free  land .''  The  North  people  hold  no 
slaves  —  they  are  not  slave-master." 

''  You  are  mistaken,  mauma.  You  cannot  read  and  follow  the 
doings  of  this  nation.  Zaffiri  can  do  both.  The  North  people  are 
slave-holders  and  slave-masters.  They  catch  the  slave  who 
escapes  from  the  South,  and  give  him  back  to  chains.  The  sol- 
diery and  militia  of  the  North,  at  a  warning  of  insurrection  in  the 
South,  stand  ready  to  march  to  the  Southerners'  aid,  and  rivet  again 
the  bondage  of  any  who  have  dared  to  seek  liberty.  In  Washing- 
ton—  in  Congress  —  Northern  Democrats  play  into  the  hands  of 
the  slave-holder ;  framing  every  law,  and  every  public  measure 
according  to  the  slave-master's  will.  Often,  the  VVhig  party,  the 
only  party  in  which  there  is  the  least  hope,  fling  their  moral  con- 
victions into  the  Southern  scale.  There  is  no  liberty  in  North 
America,  except  in  the  dominion  of  the  English  Queen  in  Canada, 
or  in  Catholic  Mexico.  The  whole  United  States  is  under  the 
slave-holder's  law." 

This  was  scarcely  intelligible  to  Zaffiri's  listener,  but  was  re- 
ceived by  sorrowful,  submissive  bowings  of  the  turbaned  head,  and 
suppressed  groans. 

"  Where,  in  the  South,  was  missis  slave  ?  "  at  length  she  asked. 

"  What  if  I  tell  you,  mauma  ?  " 

"  She  will  keep  that,  too,  with  the  rest,  safe  here,"  pointing  to 
her  breast. 

"  I  was  a  slave  in  South  Carolina ;  a  slave  in  Charleston," 
slowly  repeated  Zaffiri,  watching  the  effect  of  her  words. 

The  old  cripple  seized  her  cane,  rose,  and  stood  trembling  over  it. 

"  Then  you  is  Molly's  lost  Pearl.  The  beautiful  missis  is  a  War- 
ham.     She  is  Pearl  Warham." 

"  Mauma  forgets  her  Pearl's  red  hair,"  said  Zaffiri. 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  55 1 

"  Oh,  missis,  true  !  true  !  true  !  Molly's  Pearl  lost  again  !  The 
will  of  de  Lord  be  done  1 "  she  breathed  with  a  sigh,  and  sunk 
back  into  her  seat. 

"  It  has  ceased  raining,  mauma,"  said  Zaffiri ;  "  the  sun  is  just 
setting ;  it  breaks  through  the  clouds,  and  floods  the  wet  city  with 
its  glory." 

"  'Tis  beautiful,  missis  !  " 

"  Mauma,  I  expect  my  husband  to-night.  He  should  have 
arrived  this  morning,  but  the  South-easter  has  probably  delayed 
him." 

Cossetina  entered. 

"  Will  mauma  go  to  her  room  now,  dear  missis  ?  The  master 
will  come  safe ;  the  arm  of  the  Lord  round  him." 

"By  no  means  —  Cossetina  will  assist  me  in  dressing  as  well 
when  you  are  present ;  and  I  want  you  here  to  look  at,  till  I  go 
down  to  meet  company  after  his  arrival.  Come  in  again  this  even- 
ing, mauma  j  my  husband  will  be  glad  to  see  you  in  a  corner  of 
his  fireside.  Let  us  all  get  illuminated  faces  to  meet  him  —  happy 
faces,  mauma." 

"True,  my  blessed  child,  faces  must  be  happy  that  think  of 
him." 

"Zaffiri!"  pleaded  Cossetina,"  please  to  we^r  the  blue  velvet 
to-night ;  the  pearls  and  the  pale  hair,  d  la  Jenny  Lind.  I  can 
dress  it  like  the  sweet  singer's.     II  signore  will  admire." 

"  Bring  the  velvet  and  pearls  then,  Cossetina  \  but  I  fear  the 
treacherous  sea." 

Six  —  seven — eight  —  nine  successively  dropped  from  the  sil- 
ver-tongued mantel  clock. 

Zaffiri  passed  the  evening  in  the  parlor,  in  obedience  to  the  de- 
mands of  polite  or  social  calls.  She  went  to  mauma's  room,  saying 
to  the  dear  old  body, — 

"  It  is  so  late,  I  fear  something  has  happened." 

"  Never  fear,  sweet  missis,  he  will  come.  The  Lord's  arm  be 
round  him." 

-The  prophecy  was  scarcely  uttered,  before  a  dash  of  wheels 
paused  before  the  house.  The  opening  and  clashing  of  coach 
doors,  the  bouncing  of  trunks  upon  the  pavement,  and  the  bold 
ringing  of  the  bell,  were  welcome  music  to  the  household. 


552  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

Zafflri  had  determined  to  receive  her  husband  and  guests  in  her 
own  chamber.  It  was  large,  airy,  and  elegant ;  and  there  was  the 
privacy  necessary  to  the  occasion.  Antony  received  his  commands 
from  Cossetina,  and  consequently  piloted  the  party  to  his  lady's 
room. 

Cossetina  was  dispatched  to  the  kitchen,  to  order  supper,  and 
to  request  that  the  family  be  left  to  themselves.  After  the  fond 
greeting  of  Mr.  Lambelle  and  his  adored  wife,  Zaffiri  gave  her 
eager  attention  to  the  gray-haired  couple  who  had  accompanied 
Mr.  Lambelle.  She  embraced  both,  kissing  them  tenderly,  and 
gazed  upon  them  with  tearfnl  eyes,  welcoming  them  both  to  her 
heart  and  home. 

The  tea-bell  rang  immediately  ;  but  before  obeying  its  agreeable 
summons,  Mr.  Lambelle  took  occasion  to  make  a  necessary  expla- 
nation to  the  newly  arrived.     He  said, — 

"  At  the  table  we  hold  conversation  upon  general  subjects.  It 
must  not  become  personal.  We  are  abolitionists  in  the  most  ex- 
treme sense  of  that  word,  but  under  disguise.  I  am  never  seen  at 
their  public  meetings  ;  and  our  strongest  anti-slavery  people  never 
recognize  me  on  the  street.  It  is  agreed  ;  for  I  play  a  part  which 
an  outspoken  abolitionist  would  not  deem  it  wise  to  undertake. 
I  travel  through  the  South.  I  walk  into  the  jaws  of  death  with 
audacity,  for  my  principles  are  unknown  ;  and  I  bring  accurate 
information  of  the  practices,  purposes,  and  policy  of  slave- holders, 
which  cannot  be  reliably  obtained  in  any  other  manner.  For  this 
reason,  I  held  no  conversation  with  you,  my  dear  friends,  on  the 
sea  voyage  to  New  York.  That  I  may  keep  this  inestimable  treas- 
ure, this  lovely  Zaffiri,  whom  you,  dear  gray-haired  father,  sent 
away  from  that  Southern  land  of  horrors  at  the  peril  of  your  own 
life,  I  wear  a  double  character.  I  take  the  nefarious  hand  of  the 
slave-holder,  while  I  despise  him  in  my  heart.  I  visit  their  cotton 
marts,  their  slave  marts,  their  houses  and  plantations;  that  I  may 
secretly  bring  to  light  the  wrongs  and  cruelties  of  their  cherished 
system  of  robbery —  a  system  of  robbery  and  murder  —  the  most 
heinous  in  the  sight  of  Heaven. 

"Our  hous^  is  also  an  unsuspected  refuge  of  the  fugitive  from 
oppression.  '  This   is  a  secret.     My  friends,  you  have  been   accus- 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  553 

tomed  to  put  a  lock  upon  your  lips.  It  will  be  no  new  or  dfficult 
task  to  continue  guarded  in  our  parlors,  and  at  our  table." 

Then,  offering  his  arm  to  Mrs.  VVeintze,  and  followed  by  Zaffiri  on 
the  arm  of  her  papa,  as  she  named  him,  they  repaired  below,  to 
the  supper-room. 

After  this  refreshment  of  the  weary  travelers,  by  Zaffiri's  request 
they  went  again  to  her  room.  Cossetina  withdrew  for  the  night; 
thus  leaving  her  mistress  free  to  divulge  to  her  husband  and  friends 
the  strange  revelations  made  by  mauma  during  the  day. 

She  revealed  the  mania  that  had  taken  possession  of  dear  old 
mauma's  mind,  that  she  (Zaffiri)  had  been  dandled  upon  her 
knees ;  that  she  was  of  aristocratic  blue-blood,  and  was  born  free  ; 
more  —  that  mauma  knew  the  history  of  her  birth  and  parentage, 
and  that  her  baby  name  was  Pearl. 

'•  My  dear  friends,"  said  Zaffiri,  "  you  know  that  a  search  in  that 
hostile  State  for  my  parentage  would  be  my  enslavement  estab- 
lished, and  perpetuated.  Prompted  to  learn  what  I  am,  and  who 
I  am,  I  sought  for  convincing  proofs  of  my  indentit}'..  The  light 
straw  color  of  my  hair  is  the  difficulty  to  mauma.  Little  Pearl's 
hair  was  red." 

The  countenance  of  Mr.  Lambelle  evinced  his  perplexity. 

"I  am  astounded  !  "  he  said.  "  Can  it  be  possible  that  in  grant- 
ing the  petition  of  forlorn  old  mauma  in  New  Orleans,  to  buy  her, 
I  found  the  key  to  the  mystery  of  your  birth,  my  dear  Zaffiri  ? " 

"  There  was  a  black  nurse  for  the  baby,  that  was  afterwards  sold 
as  the  slave-child,  '  Phebe,^  "  remarked  Mr.  Weintze. 

"Let  mauma  come  in,  Zaffiri,"  said  Mr.  Lambelle.  "  Facts  must 
support  theories.  Let  us  untie  this  Gordian  knot  if  possible.  Is 
she  in  bed  .''  " 

"No,  Claude.  Mauma  is  sitting  up  to  be  presented  to  you.  I 
had  the  intention  of  presenting  her  to  Papa  Weintze,  to  test  the 
reliability  of  her  memory.     I  will  go  for  her." 

The  stumpins:  of  the  cane,  and  the  laughter  of  Zaffiri  along  the 
halls,  were  soon  heard.  Claude  met  them  at  the  open  door. 
Zaffiri  led  the  old  mother  to  Mr.  Weintze,  and  said, — 

"  Tell  me,  mauma,  if  you  ever  saw  this  gentleman  ? " 

"  Have  you  ever  known  me  before  ?  "  echoed  the  new  comer ; 
"  and,  if  so,  where  did  you  know  me  ? " 


554  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Mauma  pondered,  and  looked  steadily  upon  the  speaker's  face, 
leaning  some  time  on  her  staff.     At  length  she  replied, — 

"  Mauma  think  she  know  master  in  Charleston." 

"  By  what  name.'*" 

"I  think,  Deiderich  Weintze,  master.     He  had  grocery  store  on 

the  corner  of street.     When  mau-jna  was  younger,   she  trade 

there.  My  name  was  '  Molly,' and  I  nursed  a  white  babe  named 
*  Pearl.'  When  I  took  her  out  airing,  in  her  'broidered  dress  and 
her  white  'broidered  cloak  in  blue,  Master  Weintze  took  her  in  his 
arms,  caressed  her,  and  toted  her  in  the  house  to  his  wife.  Does 
master  'member  little  Pearl?  " 

He  avoided  an  answer  by  asking  how  long  ago  she  saw  Charles- 
ton ? 

"Don't  count  the  years,  master —  long  time.  I  was  sold  to  New 
Orleans  one  day — went  away  in  the  night  —  never  see  Charles- 
ton, nor  little  Pearl,  no  more.  Does  master  'member  little  Pearl, 
and  the  tiny  red  curls  on  her  waxen  neck?  If  master 'member, 
then  he  is  Deiderich  Weintze." 

'•  Take  your  arm-chair  in  the  warm  corner,  dear  old  mauma," 
said  Claude  approvingly,  her  bent  form  still  leaning  on  her  staff. 
He  took  her  hand,  which  trembled  in  his,  and  kindly  led  her  to 
the  seat. 

"  Old  mauma,"  said  the  gentleman,  "  I  am  Deiderich  Weintze, 
from  Charleston.  I  remember  Molly  and  little  Pearl.  My  grocery 
was  located  on  the  corner  of  the  streets  you  mention.  I  can  assure 
you  no  farther,  at  present." 

"  Our  friends  are  weary,  my  darling  wife,"  said  Mr.  Lambelle  ; 
"  they  have  suffered  much  at  sea  during  the  wild  storm  just  passed. 
Let  us  do  no  more  to-night,  than  to  settle  such  preliminaries  as 
shall  be  necessary,  Zaffiri,  for  a  sleeping  potion  for  you." 

"  My  wife  and  I  could  sleep  but  little  ourselves,"  said  Mr. 
Weintze,  with  a  troubled  expression,  "  If  we  are  not  satisfied  that 
the  elegant  mistress  of  this  fine  house  can  be  identified  with  the 
slave-girl  I  sent  North  years  ago.  We  do  not  doubt  your  gener- 
osity, sir ;  but  if  there  should  have  been  a  mistake,  we  might 
suffer  in  our  old  age  from  dependence  upon  strangers,  who  could 
have  no  interest  in  our  welfare.  We  agree  with  mauma,  that  the 
little  girl  named  Pearl,  in  the  one  case,  and  Phebe  in  the  other,  the 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  555 

same  that  I  sent  North,  had  rich,  red  hair,  which,  in  older  3'ears, 
would  have  become  a  reddish  auburn.  But  this  lady  has  hair  of 
a  lighter  and  mor^  peculiar  hue  than  I  have  ever  seen," 

"  My  friends,"  continued  Mr.  Lambelle,  "  I  have  a  solution  for  that 
doubt.  That  Zaffiri,  here,  w^s  mauma's  free  Pearl  and  your  slav^e- 
girl  Phebe,  I  truly  believe.  When  the  slave-girl,  Phebe,  was 
brougt  North,  her  hair  was  red.  I  saw  it  then,  myself ;  years  after, 
1  saw  it  red.  I  resolved  to  educate  the  homeless  waif,  and  sent  her 
to  Canada,  under  the  protection  of  Her  Majesty,  Queen  Victoria, 
where  a!l  the  advertisements  of  Southern  papers  could  not  harm 
her.  I  placed  her  in  a  convent  school,  where  every  facility  was 
offered  for  developing  the  fine  faculties  inherited  by  her  cultured 
blood.  At  the  annual  visits  which  I  made  to  look  after  her  happi- 
ness and  progress,  I  became  gradually  interested,  till  her  well-being 
and  existence  seemed  a  part  of  my  own ;  and  the  fair,  blue-eyed, 
grcefui  girl  became  a  part  of  my  every  thought,  and  every  plan. 
At  the  age  of  eighteen,  I  proposed  marriage.  Then  I  discovered 
what  I  had  so  longed  to  ascertain,  that  her  affections  were  already 
mine.  I  arranged  my  business,  here,  to  leave  the  United  States, 
married  in  Canada,  took  passage  at  Halifax  for  France,  with  my 
hunted,  beautiful  wife.  I  was  haunted  with  the  idea  that  the 
slave-catcher  would  tear  her  from  me  in  some  way.  In  Paris,  I 
resolved  to  try  some  chemical  process  to  change  the  marked  color 
of  her  hair.  My  design  was  to  make  it  dark,  even  to  blackness. 
For  some  reason,  unknown  to  the  dyer,  in  whose  skillful  hands  my 
idol  was  placed,  her  tresses  paled  into  the  wonderful  shade  you 
now  behold.  I  was  more  than  satisfied  with  the  mistake,  for  the 
disguise  was  complete.  My  lovely  wife,'  Violet,'  was  past  recogni- 
tion by  the  sleuth  hounds  of  the  North  or  South." 

Mauma  lifted  both  hands  in  thankful  joy,  crying, — 

"Bless  the  Lord  !  I  has  found  one  child  —  my  beautiful  Pearl ! 
my  baby  Pearl !  Bless  the  good  God  !  old  mauma  will  die  in  little 
Pearl's  house."  ^  , 

"And  we  have  found  our  dear  old  mauma,  who  shall  never' 
suffer  more,  but  shall  dwell  in  the  pitying  love  of  both  her  child- 
ren," said  Mr.  Lambelle. '  Turning  to  the  quiet  pair  on  his  right, 
he  unfolded  the  great  love  he  bore  them,  for  the  treasure  he  won 
from  their  hands. 


556  WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  For  the  noble  act  of  saving  Zaffiri  from  a  life  of  slavery  —  for 
the  shame,  losses  and  suffering  you  have  endured  from  the  brulal 
citizens  of  Charleston,  we  offer  you  both  a  home,  a  reinstated  busi- 
ness, and  the  deepest  of  filial  gratitude.  Have  no  fears  for  the 
future  ;  the  guardian  angel,  whose  wings  you  plumed  for  fliglit, 
will  dispense  bright  days  for  your  declining  years.  This  house 
shall  be  your  home  through  the  cold  months  of  winter,  A  room 
like  ours  is  prepared  for  you.  You  shall  go  out  and  in  at  your 
pleasure.  You  shall  study  the  metropolis  of  New  York,  and  visit 
its  places  of  amusement  and  interest,  without  the  fear  of  a  scourge, 
a  whipping-post,  or  lawless  violence. 

"In  the  spring,  if  you  desire  a  change,  you  shall  set  up  your 
original  business  —  set  up  your  own  fireside,  around  which  shall 
be  kept  two  spare  chairs  for  your  children,  Zaffiri  and  myself. 
Your  income  will  be  twenty-five  dollars  per  week,  from  this  day, 
one  year." 

Mr.  Weintze  interrupted  his  benefactor  with  an  humble  remon- 
strance against  the  weekly  stipend. 

"We  have  been  very  poor  and  broken  down  in  spirit;  a  home, 
with  friendship  and  comfort,  will  demand  all  our  thanks." 

"The  weekly  stipend  is  settled,  already  —  irrevocably  settled. 
During  these  long  winter  days  and  evenings,  we  will  relate  to  you 
the  particulars  of  Zaffiri  ;  how  well  we  remembered  the  signature 
of  '  Evening  Star,'  under  which  she  was  to  write  you  ;  how  she 
learned  at  St.  Louis  the  fate  of  her  long-deferred  letter  to  you  ; 
how  she  fainted  when  she  heard  from  a  Charlestonian's  own 
mouth  that  her  kind  wishes  had  ensnared  you  in  the  infamy  and 
distress  of  a  public  scourging,  robbery,  and  imprisonment.  Further- 
more, I  shall  have  to  learn  from  mauma,  how  the  free-born,  blue- 
blooded  Pearl  came  to  be  enslaved.  I  shall  have  the  proofs  to 
consider  more  carefully.     We  have  our  winter's  work  before  us. 

"But,  above  every  other  consideration,  let  us  remember  that 
Zaffiri  is  still  a  slave  by  the  laws  of  South  Carolina,  and  these 
slave-laws  hold  dominion  over  the  Northern  States.  One  word, 
carelessly  dropped,  might  rivet  the  manacles  again  on  these  fair 
wrists,  and  plunge  us  all  into  irredeemable  sorrow." 

"  We  will  remember !    trust  us  for  her  future  as  for  her  past. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  557 

We  have  been  trained  in  a  land  of  dark  and  guilty  secrets.     There, 
they  are  in  every  heart  —  here,  we  can  and  will  guard  one  f' 

"  Mauma  knows  her  dear  missis  born  free.  They  shall  never 
tell  mauma  her  missis  is  slave  !  "  said  the  old  woman,  quietly  dry- 
ing the  tears  from  her  wrinkled  cheeks. 

The  weary  travelers  retired  to  rest  with  life's  burthens  lightened. 
Zaffiri  walked  the  hall  slowly,  by  mauma's  tottering  steps,  and 
returned  the  care  of  her  baby  love,  by  attending  aflectionately  upon 
the  old  slave  at  her  night  toilet,  and  sealing  her  task  with  a  duti- 
ful kiss. 

The  winter  passed  swiftly  amid  these  new  friendships,  and  reve- 
lations of  a  dark  past.  From  out  these  tangled  lives  there  were 
drawn  these  well-proven  facts.  Zaffiri  was  '*  Violet,"  the  convent 
maiden.  "' Phebe"  was  the  white  slave;  and  "Pearl/'  the  blue- 
blooded  cherub  of  mauma's  memory.  After  the  abduction  to  New 
Orleans,  of  ^Molly  and  her  five  children,  little  Pearl  was  brought 
with  a  pale,  yellow  girl,  to  the  yard  of  a  Southern  family  near  to  a 
store  kept  by  a  friend  of  Deiderich  Weintze,  in  another  part  of  the 
city  of  Charleston.  Both  the  yellow  girl  and  the  white  child  had 
been  bought  from  the  auction-table  in  that  city  —  the  .slave-girl 
calling  tlie- child  her  own,  under  the  name  of  ''Phebe.''  Mr. 
Weint'ze,  in  his  frequent  visits  to  his  German  friend,  recognized 
the  child,  and,  by  much  persuasion  and  promises  of  secresy,  had 
drawn  from  the  pretented  mother  the  truth  that  the  child  was 
placed  with  her  by  the  auctioneer,  and  that  she  was  told  to  call  it 
her  own,  under  penalty  of  heavy  punishment. 

Mr.  Weintze  resolved  to  send  her  North  at  a  favorable  opportu- 
nitv,  and  accomplished  his  purpose. 

The  most  astonishing  fact  of  all,  was,  that  Madame  Lambelle's 
admiring  attendant  at  the  soiree,  in  the  grand  salons  of  General 
Terrecetne  in  St.  Louis,  was  Zaffiri's  bc^ther,  in  the  person  of  Rev. 
Fred  Warham, 


55^  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

SEVERAL  years  have  passed  since  the  mobbing  of  the  young 
theological  student,  Richard  Beame,  at  Cloudspire,  and  since 
the  radical  revolution  in  sentiment  of  the  Buddingtons,  Mr.  Link, 
and  the  Clarendons. 

To  this  trio  of  influential  and  well-to-do  families,  has  been  added 
two  other  names  from  the  registered  list  of  church  membership 
Mr.  Newland  and  Mr.  St.  Albans  had  made  calls  of  friendship  and 
inquiry  upon  Squire  Buddington  and  the  doctor.  The  result  was 
a  conviction  of  tbe  claims  of  humanity  upon  themselves,  and  a  con- 
version to  the  principles  of  true  righteousness,  as  they  termed  the 
radical  doctrine. 

These  men  were  small  farmers,  living  frugally  but  comfortabh', 
possessing  staunch  oaken  wills  anchored  in  the  faith  of  universal 
liberty.  Their  two  small,  white  homes  nestled  in  a  valley  of  green 
meadows,  like  two  eggs  in  a  ground  bird's  nest. 

Mutual  strength  was  afforded  these  two  families,  by  daily  con- 
verse and  pleasant  interchange  of  thought;  the  pliable  young 
minds  growing  up  in  their  nurture,  were  trained  to  an  unflinching 
love  of  truth  and  right. 

There,  every  week,  went  God's  messenger  —  Garrison's  Liberator; 
first,  well  read,  and  then  loaned  by  George  Buddington.  Thither, 
on  many  a  winter's  evening,  wound  the  sleighs  and  bells  of  the 
other  sturdy  martyrs  of  Cloudspire  religion.  To  the  green  valley 
of  a  summer  day  after  haying,  wended  the  carriage  and  span  of 
Mr.  Buddington,  followed  closely  by  the  fast  bay  and  wagon,  carry- 
ing the  whole  household.  iThen  arrived  the  doctor's  horse,  whin- 
nying in  a  wise-acre  air  after  the  others,  he  knew  were  already  in 
the  barn.  Frequently  the  parties  were  joined  by  Mr.  Link,  Friend 
Ste:rling worth,  and  Fanny. 

Thus  had  this  strange  leaven  of  fanaticism  leavened  a  part  of 
the  dead  Cloudspire  lump. 

On  the  day  of  which  we  now  give  a  record,  Mrs.  Beame  in  her 
kitchen,  was  selecting  beans  for  the  garden  planting.     Fanny  re- 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  559 

turned  from  the  post-office,  held  up  her  palms  to  her  mother,  with 
the  one  word  "  Empty  ! '' 

"No  letter  from  Richard?"  questioned  her  mother,  sifting  the 
beans  through  her  fingers,  unconsciously. 

"  No,  mother.     I  saw  the  mail  distributed." 

"Richard  must  be  sick,"  was  the  first  maternal  su2:o:estion. 
"Richard  never  fails  to  write." 

"  Nay,  mother,  there  are  other  causes  as  imperative  as  sickness. 
Only  a  mother's  heart  suggests  sickness.  Richard  has  a  hardy 
constitution  and  he  takes  good  care  of  it.  I  feel  an  intimation, 
an  impression,  or  an  inner  voice,  saying  he  has  a  work  to  do  yet 
for  languishing  Liberty  and  Right." 

"  Richard  is  in  the  church,  Fanny.  He  is  settled  after  the  most 
approved  ecclesiastical  form.  He  is  a  member  of  the  association. 
You  forget  that  he  cannot  step  beyond  its  bounds.  You  forget, 
Fanny,  that  the  church  has  put  its  hand  upon  its  mouth,  to  preserve 
that  wicked  silence  which  has  been  thrust  upon  its  utterances,  by 
the  Southern  oligarchy  —  an  oligarchy  in  religion,  as  well  as  in 
politics.  I  wish,  Fanny,  that  Richard  and  yourself  could  see  the 
church,  as  I  see  it  —  a  manufactured  system  formed  from  the 
ruins  of  past  ages,  tinkered  anew  in  later  times  by  unskillful  hands, 
and  daubed  with  untempered  moitar. 

"Even  the  character  of  God  himself  has  been  cast  in  a  human 
mould  and  set  up  like  a  Chinese  idol  for  unreflecting  worship.  To 
this  God  of  their  own  making  they  attribute  all  and  each  of  the 
evil  passions  of  men  —  of  men,  too,  whom  in  the  next  breath  they 
declare  hereditarily  corrupt  from  the  crown  of  the  head  to  the  soles 
of  the  feet !  I  should  prefer  to  see  my  children  iconoclasts,  break- 
ing down  with  their  strong  arms  and  determined  purpose  this  false 
image  of  our  Lord,  and  the  meaningless  worship  attendant  upon 
it." 

"  Mother,  I  know  the  church  is  wrong  in  many  respects ;  but, 
neither  Richard  nor  I  can  utterly  condemn  it.  Faith  is  the  me- 
dium through  which  Christ  our  Savior  communicates  with  erring 
man  by  the  ordained  priesthood ;  as  such,  we  must  regard  them  as 
the  designed  instruments  of  good." 

"A  false  proposition,  and,  of  course,  a  false  conclusion.  The 
church  is  not  the  medium  of  our  Savior's  love  or  commands  ;  take 


560  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

your  New  Testament,  Fanny,  and  show  me  where,  in  one  single 
instance,  the  church  obeys  His  example  or  commands.  I  must  go 
out  to  the  garden  now,  but  at  your  leisure,  examine  His  life,  and 
tell  me  where  the  two  coincide." 

Fanny  went  to  her  flower-garden  where  she  remained  thrcugli 
the  day ;  she  turned  the  fresh  earth  with  a  spade  and  hoe,  prepar- 
ing it  for  seed  and  transplanting.  She  labored  on  till  the  sun  hung 
near  the  western  horizon  amid  the  pomp  of  his  gorgeous  setting ; 
then,  Fanny,  true  to  her  love  of  Nature,  leaned  upon  her  spade  and 
was  lost  in  the  magnificent  spectacle.  She  heeded  not  approach- 
ing footsteps,  till  a  cheery  voice  cried, — 

"  Hail !  my  transfigured  sister  !  who  loves  the  sunset  glory  better 
than  her  brother  Richard  ? " 

She  turned  with  the  old  affectionate  smile,  offering  no  Vvelcome, 
but  a  surprised, — 

"  Why,  Richard  !  " 

"Give  me  thy  hand,  thou  prospective  Quakeress  !  " 

"  I'll  give  thee  my  lips,  instead  ;  not  this  earth  stained  hand." 

"YesL  yes!  I'll  kiss  that  pretty  nest  of  'thee's  '  and  '  thou's," 
whence  these  Quaker  fledglings  fly  out  so  sweetly.  Now  that  I 
find  you  well,  how  is  your  other  self,  Friend  Sterlingworth  ?  " 

"Well,  and  coming  here  next  week;  but  what  brought  you  home 
so  unexpectedly.?" 

"  Come  in,  Fanny,  and  when  we  sit  down  for  the  evening,  I  will 
answer  mother's  question  and  thine.  Hear.? — at  the  same  time. 
Let  me  carry  your  farming  tools." 

The  "  tea  things  "  were  got  out  of  the  way  in  "  short  metre,"  the 
lamps  were  lighted  early  in  ^Irs.  Beame's  sitting-room.  Richard 
entered  from  his  river  walk,  saying, — 

"I  have  been  meeting  my  boyhood's  friends  —  the  steep  path, 
the  hemlocks  and  mossy  braes,  the  pebbly  shore  and  the  rippling 
river.  My  friendship  for  them  is  unchangeable.  Alderbank, 
humble  as  it  is,  will  ever  be  the  most  charming  spot  of  earth  to 
me." 

"Then  the  turmoil  and  struggle  of  life  v.'ill  hold  in  reserve  one 
restful,  happy  resort  for  your  fretted  spirit,  my  son.  Nature  is  true 
to  her  lovers  ;  she  has  a  hidden  balm  for  us  all.  We  are  ready, 
Richard,  for  any  development  you  choose  to  make   about   your 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  561 

return  home.     You  have  brought  trunks  and  books  —  an  ominous 
move,  I  think." 

"  The  laconic  reply  to  the  subject  is,  '  I'm  afloat !  '  The  logical 
modification  is,  '  I  am  dismissed  from  my  congregation.  I  am  ex- 
communicated from  the  association, —  all  for  my  shocking  heresies 
to  the  Pentateuch,  and  for  my  traitorous  utterances  against  my 
country's  laws," 

'•Richard  !  are  you  really  dismissed  from  Bigotboro ?  This  is  a 
second  dismissal  I " 

"That  wound  under  that  black  patch  on  my  forehead,  there,  is 
my  certificate  of  honorable  dismissal;  mother — your  anxiety  is 
now  relieved,"' 

"The  wounds  of  the  martyr  are  more  to  be  desired  than  subser- 
viency to  false  doctrine,"  replied  Mrs.  Beame.  "  Let  us  hear  the 
particulars." 

"  Here  they  are  :  Bigotboro  is  a  large  township  containing  sev- 
eral corner  school-houses,  in  which  I  have  expounded  our  moral 
and  religious  obligations  from  week  to  week.  Assumins:  the  love 
of  Christ  to  be  universal,  extending  to  all  classes  and  races.  I 
called  attention  to  the  conditions  of  our  own  nation,  to  its  infidel- 
ity on  this  point ;  also,  to  the  fact  that  God  the  Father  is  no  re- 
specter of  persons.  In  support  of  these  assertions  I  laid  bare  the 
blood-curdling  cruelty  of  the  system  of  slavery.  I  showed  them  its 
tortures ;  its  thumb-screws,  its  whips,  and  chains.  I  took  up  In- 
temperance and  exhibited  its  debasing  power  in  causing  man  to 
become  an  inferior  to  the  brute  creation.  You  know  I  have  been 
settled  in  that  town  over  a  year. 

"Last  week  I  held  a  meeting  at  '  Hickory  Corner '  school-house. 
I  remarked  a  full  attendance,  quite  unusual.  After  prayer,  I  took 
for  my  text,  the  '  Golden  Rule  '  and  went  on  to  enlarge  upon  the 
word  '  others,'  givino:  it  a  more  extended  siofnification  than  is 
contained  in  the  narrow  limits  of  the  ordinary  church  member. 
Suddenly  I  was  confronted  by  the  uproarious  taunts,  accusations 
and  insults  of  the  hearers.  The  lights  were  put  out  as  if  by  one 
breath.  Eggs  and  other  missiles  were  hurled  at  my  standing  place 
with  mobbish  violence ;  a  piece  of  brick  or  rock  struck  my  head 
there,  and  I  fell  insensible."  When  sense  returned,  I  was  alone 
upon  the  floor.     The  moon,  just  sinking  in  the  west,  poured  in  at 


562  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

the  window  and  showed  the  time  to  be  about  one  o'clock.  I  knew 
the  time  of  its  setting.  The  open  air  revived  me.  My  horse 
stood  where  I  tied  him,  and  neighed  impatiently  at  the  sound  of 
my  footstep.  I  bound  my  head  with  a  handkerchief  and  at- 
tempted to  mount.  The  saddle  slid  off  at  my  feet ;  the  girths  had 
been  cut.  I  threw  the  useless  thing  one  side,  and  sprang  on  the 
animals  back.  It  was  a  three  mile  ride,  and  every  step  of  my 
walking  horse  sent  a  throbbing  pain  through  my  head." 

"  Were  you  not  prostrated  in  bed  by  pain  and  the  nervous 
shock?"  eagerly  enquired  his  mother. 

"  I  was  prostrate  two  days  ;  the  family  in  which  I  boarded  at- 
tended to  my  needs,  but  with  that  cold  indifference  that  would 
freeze  one.  I  knew  this  treatment  to  be  only  another  phase  of  the 
mobocratic  spirit  of  the  school-house,  and  valued  it  at  its  worth. 
Last  Saturday,  a  committee  of  the  influential  men  brought  me  in- 
formation that  the  church  would  dispense  with  my  services.  That 
the  towai  must  hear  the  gospel  preached,  woX.  politics y 

"  As  I  imagined,  my  son  !  You  cannot  preach  the  Gospel  of 
Christ  in  its  purity,  in  many  churches  in  our  land.  You  have 
made  two  efforts  that  should  be  satisfactory.  You  have  been  set- 
tled twice  and  dismissed  twice." 

"When  was  your  connection  with  the  association  broken?" 
asked  Fanny. 

**  The  association  sent  my  letter  of  dismissal  about  a  month 
ago,  giving  me  the  opportunity  to  decide  whether  I  would  return  to 
the  old  beaten  path  of  theology,  and  repress  agitation  upon  the 
dangerous  heresies  I  had  adopted.  I  wrote  immediately,  that  I 
had  given  four  years  to  pure  theological  studies,  and  that  I  de- 
manded a  hearing  before  the  '  Association.'  They  refused  to  grant 
me  a  hearing.  This  refusal  was  contrary  to  their  own  rules. 
Consequently,  I  informed  them  that  I  refused  suspension  or  expul- 
sion.    There  the  matter  stands." 

"Richard,  you  are  afloat,  indeed !"  ejaculated  Fanny,  showing 
a  tender  fear  for  her  brother's  welfare  in  every  feature. 

"  Put  away  fear,  my  daughter  !  '  Afloat '  is  the  proper  word  for 
a  reformer.  A  ship  that  never  cuts  loose  from  her  moorings  will 
rot  in  muddy  waters  at  her  cables  length  from  shore.  She  might 
as  well  be  dismantled  of  her  sails  and  rigging,  and  dismasted." 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  563 

"  Mother,  do  you  recollect  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson's  '  Damascus 
blade?'     I  read  it  to  you,  when  I  was  home  last,  said  Richard. 

"  I  recollect  it  well.  The  ^Damascus  blade'  such  as  you  search 
through  nature  in  vain  to  pare/let,  laid  up  on  the  shelf  in  some  village, 
to  rust  and  ruin.  You,  my  son,  have  quick  and  powerful  percep- 
tions of  right  and  wrong.  Being  free  now,  give  them  untrammeled 
play,  and  do  not  lay  yourself  away  on  a  shelf  in  this  village  of 
Alderbank,  to  '  rust  and  ruin.' 

"  Be,  Richard,  like  Emerson's  '  bolder  spirit,  a  more  surren- 
dered soul,  more  informed  and  led  by  God,  which  is  much  in 
advance  of  the  rest,  quite  beyond  their  sympathy,  but  predicts 
what  shall  soon  be  the  general  fulness.'  Like  John  the  Baptist, 
lift  up  your  voice  in  the  wilderness,  among  the  mountains,  in  the 
lanes  and  by-places,  and  herald  the  dawning  of  liberty.  In  the 
continued  words  of  Emerson,  '  as  when  we  stand  by  the  sea-shore, 
whilst  the  tide  is  coming  in,  a  wave  comes  up  the  beach  far  higher 
than  any  foregoing  one,  and  recedes,  and  for  a  long  time  none 
comes  up  to  that  mark  ;  but  after  some  time,  the  whole  is  there 
and  beyond  it.'  Richard,  be  a  pioneer  of  the  advance  guard  for 
Reform  and  universal  Freedom  !  so  the  world  will  finally  fall  in 
and  rise  to  your  level,  like  Emerson's  tide." 

*' You  have  met  me  on  the  way,  mother.  You  have  met  your 
son  fleeing  from  violence  and  outrage  on  the  way,  mother,  with 
your  blessing.  Had  I  been  disheartned,  I  should  now  feel  my 
strength  renewed  for  the  race  set  before  me.  Mother,  I  have 
already  decided  upon  the  self-same  course  you  advise.  I  have 
consulted  with  anti-slavery  friends.  The  conclusion  is  that  I 
enter  the  lecture  field  and  depend  for  subsistence  on  the  same 
Providence  that  feeds  the  birds  of  the  air." 

"  Where  shall  you  go,  Richard  ? "  asked  Fanny,  in  an  anxious 
voice. 

"  I  shall  go  to  Ohio,  in  company  with  others.  The  black  laws 
of  that  State,  enacted  with  remonstrance  of  church  or  clergy,  need 
to  have  gospel  light  turned  in  full  blaze  upon  them." 

"  What  are  they,  Richard  1  "  inquired  Fanny. 

"  They  are  an  exposition  of  the  worst  elements  of  human  nature. 
First,  every  negro  that  enters  the  State  is  required  to  give  two 
freehold  securities  of  five  hundred  dollars  for  his,  or  her  good   be- 


564  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

havior,  and  his  or  her  support  in  case  he  becomes  a  pauper. 
Notice  the  inconsistency.  The  next  step  was  to  make  them 
paupers,  by  forbidding  persons  from  hiring  or  employing  them  ; 
also,  anyone  who  harbors  or  conceals  them  shall  be  fined  one 
hundred  dollars.  Thus -driven  from  pillar  to  post,  perhaps  in  spite 
of  these  disabilities,  the  colored  citizen  succeeds  in  staying  within 
the  State,  and  securing  comfortable  homes  ;  they,  in  that  case,  are 
liable  to  become  the  victims  of  fraudulent  dealings,  for  they  cannot 
give  '  their  evidence  in  court,  on  any  subject  in  which  a  white  man 
is  involved.'  There  are  several  thousand  in  Ohio ;  but,  as  a  class, 
they  are  debased  and  ignorant.  Instead  of  seeking  to  gain  free- 
holds, and  depending  upon  farming  for  subsistence,  they  congregate 
in  towns,  and  become  day-laborers,  barbers  and  menial  servants." 

"  And  I  have  no  doubt,"  said  Mrs.  Beame,  "  that  the  mocking 
assertion  of  Freedom  and  Equality  is  inscribed  on  the  head  and 
front  of  Ohio's  State  Constitution." 

"Tiue,  mother;  it  declares  that  all  are  born  free  and  inde- 
pendent, and  have  certain  natural  and  inalienable  rights,  and  then 
by  its  appended  laws,  Ohio  strips  her  colored  citizens  of  all  these 
rights,  forbids  him  employment,  and  then  sets  up  a  derisive  howl 
over  his  indolence.  Ohio  leaves  rags  for  their  clothing,  and  then 
points  the  finger  of  shame  at  their  nakedness.  Ohio  excludes  col- 
ored children  from  her  public  schools  —  debars  them  from  every 
mechanical  pursuit ;  then,  in  lugubrious,  hypocritical  tones,  laments 
the  fiatural^  clannish  degradatioJi  of  the  colored  race,  and  strives  by 
statute  and  violence  to  drive  out  the  pestiferous  fugitives  from 
their  soil." 

"Richard,  how  many  are  there  in  Ohio  ?  "  asked  Fanny. 

"  A  few  years  ago  there  were  about  eight  thousand." 

"  Why  do  they  not  leave  Ohio  ?  " 

*' Because,  my  dear  sister,  its  about  six  to  one  place,  and  half-a- 
dozen  to  the  other  in  any  part  of  our  eagle-ized  United  States.  If 
they  venture  to  change  location,  and  to  travel  on  foot,  like  our 
Savior,  and  as  they  are  necessitated  to  do,  they  would  have  to  run 
the  gauntlet  of  hissing,  starvation  and  vagrancy.  Yet,  a  body  of 
colored  men  did  apply  to  the  Governor  of  Canada  for  a  place  of 
refuge.  ]\Iark  his  beautiful  reply.  Drop  his  answer  into  your  sack 
of  smooth  stones  for  the  forhead  of  our  Goliath. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  565 

"'  Tell  the  Republicans,*  said  the  governor,  'on  your  side  of  the 
line,  that  we  Royalists  do  not  know  men  by  their  color.  Should  you 
come  to  us,  you  will  be  entitled  to  all  the  privileges  of  the  rest  of 
Her  Majesty's  subjects.' 

"  They  did  go  out  from  under  our  Republican  Government  to  a 
Monarchy  for  protection." 

"  All  hail  Victoria !  the  beneficent  Queen  of  England !  "  said 
Fanny,  in  a  voice  husky  with  emotion. 

"The  immediate  cause  of  their  effort  at  removal,  was  a  three- 
days  mobbing  of  the  colored  people  of  Cincinnati.  The  trustees 
of  the  townships  issued  a  proclamation,  that  any  colored  man  who 
did  not  fulfil  the  requirements  of  the  law,  should  leave  the  city. 
But  as  that  was  simply  impossible,  only  a  small  portion  could  or 
did  leave.  The  mob  attempted  to  expel  them  by  force  ;  and  for 
three  days'  riot  ran  wild  in  the  city.  The  colored  people  appeal- 
ing^ in  vain  to  the  authorities,  barricaded  their  houses,  and  thus 
alone  the  fury  of  the  mob  was  resisted. 

"  So  you  see,  my  dear  sister,  Ohio  needs  light ;  that  ineffable 
Gospel  light,  which  searches  the  consciences  and  hearts  of  men 
who  darkly  substitute  evil  for  good,  who  grope  madly  among  the 
stumbling-blocks  their  own  hands  have  planted." 

•'  The  Church  of  Christ  must  be  cleansed  of  this  sin,  through  its 
own  inherent  tendency  to  purification,"  said  Fanny.  "  I  have  not 
lost  faith  in  its  rectification.  Do  not,  Richard,  lay  all  the  censure 
on  the  churches.  You  and  I  can  live  up  to  our  own  professions,  if 
others  fail." 

"  No,  my  sister,  these  dumb  churches  have  not  the  spirit  of 
Christ  in  any  particular.  They  hold  none  of  the  Savior's  love, 
therefore  there  is  no  inherent  tendency  to  purification.  The 
clergy,  through  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land,  are  blind 
leaders  of  the  blind.  They  fail  to  discern  the  truth,  themselves  ; 
consequentl}^  they  fail  to  educate  the  people  up  to  the  fundamental 
truths,  which  are  as  old  as  the  foundations  of  the  world." 

He  took  from  his  valise  a  pamphlet,  and  placed  it  in  Fanny's 
hands. 

"  There,  my  recluse,  is  a  book  for  your  perusal.  It  was  written 
by  an  acquaintance  whose  name  you  will  learn  on  the  fly  leaf.  He 
has  been  beaten  about  by  mobs  for  many  months,  but  with  a  brave 


566  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

soul.  He  says  there,  on  the  second  page,  *  he  values  the  lawless 
violence  with  which  they  have  broken  up  a  majority  of  the  meet- 
ings which  he  has  attended  as  a  proof  of  the  profound  regard  for 
the  truth  and  power  of  what  he  says.' " 

Fanny  read  aloud  from  the  cover, — 

'"A  Brotherhood  of  Thieves.'  That  sounds  like  the  'Ara- 
bian Knights.'     Who  are  they?" 

"  *  The  Brotherhood  of  Thieves  '  represents  the  clergy  of  our 
country;  but  you  had  a  bright  thought,  Fanny.  The  'fatal  spell,' 
and  the  '  sorcery '  of  a  designing  priesthood,  ov^er  the  people,  come 
nearer  to  the  conjuring  and  magic  of  the  '  Arabian  Nights,'  more 
than  anything  I  know.  Read  the  book,  Fanny,  and  read  it  to 
mother.  It  is  destined  to  set  public  sentiment  in  a  ferment, —  a 
chemical  action  much  needed  in  these  times.  Lay  it  away,  now, 
please  ;  let  us  give  this  evening  to  conversation." 

"  Do  you  know,  mother,  that  only  one  thing  troubles  me  in  this 
general  breaking  up  ?  It  is  the  thought  of  Lucy.  You  know  we 
were  to  have  been  married  this  spring.  I  had  a  home  to  offer  her 
in  prospect.  Now,  with  empty  purse  and  with  staff  and  sandals,  I 
am  to  become  a  wanderer.  How  will  she  meet  this  reverse  .?  My 
marriage  must  be  postponed." 

"  She  may  meet  you,  my  son,  as  you  say  I  have  done,  on  your 
way,  with  her  love  and  blessing.  Go  and  see,  Richard,  to-morrow. 
Lucy  is  not  a  butterfly,  to  perch  upon  the  fairest  rose,  on  the 
topmost  spray,  to  be  blown  away  at  the  first  breeze.  Her  love  and 
trust  have  been  refined  in  the  furnace  till  it  is  pure  gold.  I  am 
sure,  my  son,  she  is  wholly  yours,  come  weal,  come  woe." 

"  Mother,   she  is   dearer  to  me   than    aught  else ;    yet,   nothing 
must  come  between  me  and  this  life-work." 
•      "  Right,  Richard  !     If  needs  be,  your  one  single    affection  must 
be  sacrificed  for  the  healing  of  millions  of  trampled  hearts,  crushed 
hopes,  blasted  joys,  and  outraged  homes." 

"If  all  men  had  such  mothers  as  mine.  Tyranny  and  Injustice 
would  soon  slink  away  with  impotent  step." 

On  the  morrow,  Richard  drove  away  from  home,  wearing  a 
troubled  and  apprehensive  countenance. 

"  Wish  me  joy,  mother  and  Fanny,"  he  said  to  them,  standing 
upon  the  steps. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  567 

•*  Thei-e  is  no  need,  Richard.  It  will  fall  about  your  path  like 
manna  in  the  desert." 

After  the  evening  lamps  were  lighted,  Richard  returned.  As  he 
entered  the  little  parlor,  Fanny  caught  his  hands. 

"  Ah  !  brave  reformer,  I  see  all  is  well.  I  read  it  in  your  radiant 
face." 

'•  True,  Fanny ;  you  are  an  oracle.     All  is  well." 

"Tell  us  all  about  it." 

"  Lucy  is  not  surprised.  She  and  her  father,  the  doctor,  approved 
of  my  decision.  Neither  would  hear  of  my  poverty.  He  said,  '  I 
sold  my  Lucy,  once,  to  Southern  ruffianism  and  debauchery.  She 
brought  back  the  price  with  her.  Take  it,  both  of  you ;  it  can  be 
turned  to  no  better  account  than  undoing  \\i'3i\.  act.'  Dr.  Clarendon 
will  not  listen  to  postponement  of  our  marriage." 

"  The  doctor  has  changed  much  since  his  daughter's  return  from 
South  Carolina,"  said  Mrs.  Beame. 

"  Hear,  further,  the  result  of  this  day's  visit.  Lucy,  herself,  insists 
upon  accompanying  me  to  Ohio,  and  spending  the  season.  She 
will  address  small  audiences  of  women  at  every  opportunity,  and 
repeat  the  story  of  the  wrongs  of  colored  women,  as  she  herself  has 
witnessed,  in  the  South.  She  will  take  upon  herself  the  distribu- 
tion and  sale  of  the  publications  of  the  Anti-Slavery  Society,  and 
thus  sow  seed  by  the  wayside." 

"  In  Lucy,  you  will  find  companionship  of  spirit.  As  a  wife,  she 
will  be  your  shield  in  the  hour  of  trial ;  she  will  be  your  strength 
in  intervals  of  rest.  I  can  ask  no  better  gift  from  Providence  than 
such  a  daughter,"  said  Mrs.  Beame. 

"  I  am  under  many  obligations  to  you  for  giving  me  such  a 
sister,  Richard.  Lucy  will  be  a  tower  of  strength  to  us  all,  for  no 
one  can   gainsay  her   experiences  of    Southern   heartlessness    and 

cruelty." 

"  Then,  7na  belle  religieuse,  you  grant  that  the  motives  actuating 
her  course  in  reform  must  be  substantially  based  on  reason  instead 
of  untrained  impulses?" 

"  Of  course,  Richard." 

"  Then  read  that,  and  go  and  do  likewise,"  at  the  same  time 
handing  her  a  paper  roll. 


568  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

Fanny  opened  it,  and  read  aloud  to  her  mother. 

TEETOTAL   ANTI-SLAVERY    PLEDGE. 

Believing  slave-holding,  under  all  circumstances,  to  be  a  heinous  sin  and 
crime,  and  deeply  convinced  of  the  wickedness  of  aiding  or  abetting,  by  our 
countenance  or  otherwise,  any  who  are  concerned  in  it,  we,  the  undersigned,  do 
agree  never  to  vote  for  any  candidate  for  civil  office,  nor  countenance  any  man 
as  a  Christian  minister,  nor  hold  connection  with  any  organization  as  a  Christian 
church,  except  such  as  have  dissolved  their  political  and  ecclesiastical  coimcc- 
tion  with  the  slave  system,  and  are  practically  pledged  to  labor  with  us  for  its 
immediate  and  entire  extinction  from  our  country.  Nor  will  we  aid  in  returning 
fugitives  from  shivery,  nor  do  any  act  to  prevent  slaves  from  regaining  their  lib- 
erty, by  such  means  as  they  may  tMnk  proper  to  adopt. 

Richard  Beame, 

Lucy  Clarendon  Steele. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that,  mother,"  asked  Richard. 

"  I  think  it  is  a  pledge  to  which  every  person  who  professes  love 
to  God  and  man,  subscribe.     Do  you  want  my  name  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mother,  just  below  Lucy's;  more,  I  want  Fanny's  name 
beneath  yours  ;  then  I  will  frame  it  and  hang  it  in  this  room,  as 
our  confession  of  faith." 

"Richard,  I  cannot  place  my  name  on  that  paper  yet;  I  cannot 
withdraw  from  the  church  of  my  Redeemer.  'With  all  its  faults,  I 
love  it  still,'  and  will  never  cease,  by  word  and  example,  to  remon- 
strate airainst  its  errors." 

"  It  does  appear  to  me,  Fanny,  that  your  reverence  for  the  church, 
as  it  is,  if  given  its  true  name,  would  read  '■obstinacy.^  However,  I 
leave  a  line  for  your  signature  below  mother's,  and  will  leave  *  The 
Brotherhood  of  Thieves '  for  your  perusal.  Before  my  departure,  I 
will  hang  the  Pledge  in  this  room." 

"  Richard,  you  look  displeased.  Let  me  change  the  subject  to  a 
pleasanter  one.     What  time  is  appointed  for  your  marriage  t  " 

"Two  weeks  from  next  Sabbath.  The  following  day,  Monday, 
we  start  for  Ohio.  There  will  be  no  foolish  display  of  dress  on  the 
occasion.  Lucy  will  be  wedded  in  her  traveling  dress,  which  will 
be  made  for  the  journey.  Next  week  she  will  spend  one  day 
home  ;  you  and  mother  are  to  spend  one  day  there,  before  I  go." 

Two  houses  in  Cloudspire  had  two  weeks  of  busy  occupation. 

"Lucy,  my  brave  girl,"  said  Doctor  Clarendon,  "going  the 
second   lime   to  leave  father  and  mother?     Well,  I   don't  hold  to 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  569 

rustin_2:  out,  in  this  world.  You  learned  your  part  in  the  South ; 
now,  with  a  husband  to  whom  you  can  give  your  love  and  respect 
without  reservation,  go  and  repeat  that  lesson  over  and  over  ;  teach 
dull  ears  and  gospel-hardened  hearts.  Here  in  my  house  will  be 
a  resting-place  for  you  both,  whenever  you  may  choose  an  interval 
from  your  labors,  while  I  live.  Sit  down  by  your  old  father,  a 
minute ;  he  has  something  for  your  ears.  Now,  mother  and  I  have 
settled  it,  that  all  Anti-slavery  friends  in  this  town  shall  be  here 
on  your  wedding-day,  Sunday,  and  I've  been  round  with  invita- 
tions. You'll  have  nothing  to  do  about  the  cake  and  other  prepa- 
rations. Binah  says  her  dear  young  missis  must  not  lift  a  finger 
'bout  the  work.  So,  go  on  with  your  own  fixings  that.  Heaven 
knows,  are  plain  enough.  Do  you  persist  in  not  having  a  wedding 
dress  ? " 

"Yes,  father,  I  persist.  Life  seems  to  me  real  and  earnest, 
now,  and  too  short  for  the  w^ork  we  should  have  to  do,  without 
dressing  ourselves  as  puppets  for  a  show.  I\Iy  stone-colored  trav- 
eling dress  is  well  on  the  way  of  its  making  ;  if  I  am  excused  from 
the  kitchen,  I  shall  have  plenty  of  time." 

"  Has  Richard  engaged  his  wedding-suit,  yet .'' " 

"  No,  father,  for  he  will  not  have  one ;  and,  father,  I  approve  of 
his  judgment.  He  had  a  hard  struggle  to  go  through  his  four 
years'  theological  course;  he  was  settled  on  a  small  salary  and  has 
been  dismissed  twice.  What  little  funds  he  has,  he  will  reserve 
for  traveling  expenses.  My  dear  father,  our  friends  are  beautiful 
in  our  own  sight,  when  they  are  clothed  in  the  habiliments  of  our 
own  devoted  reverence  and  affection.  Thus,  Richard  is  ever  beau- 
tiful." 

The  old  doctor  wound  a  longer  horn  than  usual,  in  the  red  ban- 
dana, and  said, — 

"  Lucy,  let  me  tell  you,  he  will  have  martyrdom  enough  hereafter 
without  beginning  on  his  wedding  day.  Richard  is  to  have  a  new 
suit  for  that  occasion,  frorn  the  generous  purse  of  ]\Ir.  Link.  He 
takes  Richard  to-day  to  East  Elms  for  that  purpose.  His  old 
student  trunk  is  pretty  well  battered,  too,  Buddington  says,  and  his 
offering  will  be  as  good  a  travelling  trunk  as  money  will  buy. 
Issy  says  he  must  give  him  something.  His  white  father  down 
there,  in  Charleston,  remits  him  so  much  money,  that  he  will  give 


57©  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Richard  u.  new  watch.  Lucy  I've  s^en  it ;  its  a  splendid  time- 
keeper. Filette  will  weave  the  chain.  Newland  and  St.  Albans, 
over  there  in  the  green  valley,  insist  upon  giving,  and  their  wives 
insist  upon  making  one  dozen  new  shirts  for  Richard.  I  expect 
theyVe  half  done  now." 

'•  Richard  will  be  surprised  and  will  feel  their  kindness  deeply. 
This  work  is  blessed  in  the  beginning,"  answered  Lucy. 

The  doctor  rose,  flourished  the  bandana'  with  increased  zest, 
and  after  brushing  away  something  that  seemed  to  obscure  his 
sight,  made  one  emphatic  gesture  with  his  foretinger  before  Lucy's 
face. 

"  Don't  you  dare  to  think  that  all  these  people  here  give  Rich- 
ard Beame  more  than  the  doctor.  Don't  dare  to  think  that  their 
gifts  come  any  nearer  to  mine,  than  a  grain  of  sand  comes  to  a 
mountain.  /  have  given  that  poor  student  the  apple  of  my  eye. 
I  have  given  him  the  light  of  two  lives, —  your  mother's  and  mine. 
I  have  given  to  him  the  sweetest  of  all  our  earthly  joys,  the  fra- 
grant blossom  of  Cloudspire  !  my  lily  of  the  valley  !  my  rose  of 
Sharon  !  my  noble  and  inimitable  Lucy!  " 

The  doctor  caught  her  to  his  breast,  kissing  her  tenderly.  Un- 
folding his  arms,  he  said, — 

"  There,  don't  say  another  word  ;  don't  speak  of  this  again. 
You  work  on  your  dress,  and  I'll  give  you  the  right  kind  of  a  good- 
bye, when  the  time  comes." 

The  quiet  that  succeeded  Richard's  marriage  and  departure  was 
soon  broken  by  a  call  upon  the  ministries  of  Mrs.  Beame  and 
Fanny.  Willie  Hughes  came  up  from  Susan's  cabin  by  the  river, 
bringing  news  of  the  continued  illness  of  his  mother. 

"  Is  her  cough  no  better,  Willie .''  ' 

"No  ma'am,  mother  coughs  worse  ;  she  didn't  sleep  but  little 
last  night." 

*'  Has  Docror  Clarendon  been  to  see  her  within  a  few  days  ?  " 

"Yes,  ma'am,  he  came  yesterday  and  left  some  medicine.  He 
told  mother  to  send  for  Mrs.  Beame  and  Fanny." 

''  Poor  child,  we  will  go  down  after  dinner  ''  said  Mrs.  Beam.e. 
"  Stay  and  eat  with  us,  my  child,  and  we  will  walk  back  by  the 
river  with  you.  What  does  your  mother  want  to  eat  ?  do  you  hear 
her  say  what  she  would  like  ? " 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  571 

"  No,  ma'am,  not  very  much."  Then,  with  a  child's  after-thought, 
"  I  heard  her  say  she  wanted  some  broth." 

"Look  here.  Fanny,"  said  Mrs.  Beame,  "  I  will  kiU^  a  chicken. 
You  get  the  hot  water  ready.  I  can  dress  it  in  a  short  tmie,  and 
boil  it  while  cooking  dinner.  Get  out  a  tumbler  of  currant  jelly, 
a  slice  of  butter,  and  a  loaf  of  white  bread,  Fanny ;  also  a  dish  for 
the  chicken  and  soup.  Have  all  ready.  I  fear^  we  have  neglected 
Susan,  in  the  preparation  for  Richards  journey." 

After  dinner,  the  three  took  a  pleasant  stroll  down  by  the  violet- 
crowned  banks  of  the  river  shore  to  Susan's  cabin.  Addie  ran  to 
meet  them,  her  hands  full  of  white  shad  blossoms. 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Beame  and  Fanny!  ma  wants  to  see  you  so  much  ; 
she  told  me  to  meet  Willie,  aud  go  over  to  the^farm  for  some  milk, 
when  you  are  here,  so  she  need  not  stay  alone." 

The   children   went   on    up    the    hill   green   with   tender  grass 
Susan's  room  was  neat  and  comfortable,  from  the  previous   care  of 
her  present  visitors.     Her  own  bed  was  supplied  with  pillows  and 
sheets,  while  a  pretty  patchwork  quilt  gave  a  bright  air  to  the  dull 

and  scanty  furniture.  .        r    i  i    . 

"  Dear  Fanny,  I  can't  sit  up  now,"  spoke  Susan  in  a  feeble  tone, 
holding  a  hand  of  each.  Fve  sent  the  children  away,^for  I  want 
to  tall^with  you  both;  I  havn't  long  to  stay  now,  and—" 

"  Lie  quiet,  Susan  :  do  not  talk  till  you  have  taken  some  nour- 
ishment. It  will  give  you  strength,"  said  Mrs.  Beame,  in  a  moth- 
erly manner.  "Fanny,  run  out  doors  and  gather  a  few  chips  and 
sticks  for  a  little  fire,  to  warm  the  soup."  ^^ 

"  Yes,  mother,  'twill  be  done  very  soon."  _ 

She  first  went  to  the  bed,  brushed  away  the  dark  hair  and  kissed 

the  thin  cheek,  saying,—  ^    „     ,      ,mi      •   i  f 

"We  will  have  plenty  of  time,  Susan;  we   shall  stay  till  night. 

Now  for  the  fire."  .  , 

Meantime,  ^Irs.  Beame  got  the  sufferer  into  an  arm-chair, 
brought  by  Doctor  Clarendon,  and  made  the  bed  afresh. 

"  Don't  fret,  Susie,"  cried  Fanny.  "  I  know  where  all  the  dishes 
are  •  you  know  Fm  at  home,  here." 

"  I  know  it,  dear  girl.  Do  as  you  please  ;  only  it  pains  me  to 
see  vou  waiting  on  me,  so  much." 

"Whom  else  have  we  to  look  after,  but  you,  Susan  ?     said  Mrs. 


572  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Beame.  Other  sick  ones  have  houses,  lands,  and  friends,  and 
money.  You,  poor  dear,  have  neither.  Do  not  worry  —  we  must 
do  this,  not  only  because  we  love  you,  but  because  Jesus  the  Christ 
is  looking  to  see  if  we  love  him,  too.  There,  don't  have  another 
care  about  it.  Take  some  soup  and  this  chicken  breast.  Fanny, 
bring  the  toast  and  the  jelly." 

"This  is  so  refreshing,"  said  Susie.  *' I  can't  cook,  and  I've 
been  sick  so  long,  there  is  very  little  to  cook.  I  wish  Henry  could 
see  this  room,  this  afternoon." 

"  Perhaps  he  knows  it  all,  and  sees  us  from  the  home  above. 
Let  us  hope  so,  Susie.  It  might  make  even  Heaven  happier. 
There  !  I'm  always  saying  too  much,"  lamented  Fanny,  as  she 
took  her  own  handkerchief  and  held  it  to  Susan's  wet  eyes. 
"  There,  there,  eat  a  bit  of  toast  and  jelly.  Look  here,  I've  brougt 
you  something  in  this  basket  —  a  piece  of  Richard  and  Lucy's 
w^edding-cake.  We  had  a  splendid  wedding  —  all  your  good 
friends  were  there,  Susie." 

''  Have  they  gone  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Susie,  hundreds  of  miles  away  ;  but  they  are  equally 
yoked  in  the  Lord's  service,  and  will  be  happy  in  their  mission aiy 
labor." 

After  an  exhaustive  attack  of  cougliing,  Susie  took  up  the  for- 
mer thread  of  conversation. 

"  I  suppose  their  labor  is  all  for  we  colored  ones,  to  try  to  make 
people  remember  we  are  human,  and  to  lift  us  from  the  earth 
where  we  have  lain  so  long,  bruised  and  mangled  by  the  pioud 
feet  of  the  white  race.  Who  would  think  Christians  should  need 
missionaries  .'' " 

"  All  people  need  missionaries,  who  do  not  know  the  true  God. 
And  I  call  Ohio  pagan  in  humanity.  You  look  fatigued,  Susie. 
Will  you  try  the  bed  again  ?  " 

*•  I  think  so.     I  cai\  talk  with  less  effort  there." 

Mrs.  Beame  propped  up  the  invalid  with  pillows,  bathed  her 
temples  with  camphor,  and,  with  Fanny,  drew  chairs  to  the  bedside. 

'*  Now,  Susie,  we  are  ready  to  listen  to  anything  you  may  have 
to  say." 

After  some  delay,  in  which  she  seemed  striving  to  repress  feel- 
ing and  arrange  thoughts,  she  said, — 


WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  573 

"  Doctor  Clarendon  was  here,  yesterday,  and  I  am  sure  by  his 
manner  and  expression  I  shall  not  live  long.  The  colds  I  took 
last  winter,  ripened  into  consumption.  You  see  I  have  grown 
weaker,  till  I  am  helpless  upon  this  bed.  My  only  anxiety  is  for 
my  children."  She  wiped  away  the  tears  with  Fanny's  handker- 
chief, kindly  laid  before  her.  "  You  know  how  hard  it  is  for  col- 
ored grown  men  and  women,  even,  to  get  bread  to  support  life,  and 
to  get  respectable  clothing.  What  will  become  of  my  helpless, 
despised  children,  when  they  cannot  have  even  my  feeble  protec- 
tion, when  I  am  in  my  grave  ?  Who  will  give  them  bread  ?  Who 
will  cover  their  feet  from  the  winter  snow?  Who  will  drop  a  kind 
word  into  their  frightened  and  aching  hearts  ?  " 

A  burst  of  sobbing  tilled  the  little  room,  and  rose  above  the 
plash  of  the  river  and  the  shiver  of  the  young  spring  leaves,  that 
came  in  at  the  open  door. 

"  I  do  so  want  to  look  upon  my  Henry's  face  once  more  on  this 
earth.  Last  night,  I  listened  for  his  step  as  it  used  to  come  up  to 
the  door.  Sometimes  I  thought  I  heard  it,  but  he  didn't  come. 
Henry  must  be  dead ;  by  sickness,  or  by  the  dreadful  sea." 

"  I  fear  so,"  said  Mrs.  Beame.  "  You  have  never  heard  from 
him  since  that  letter  Fanny  read  to  you,  so  long  ago,  that  summer 
afternoon." 

"  At  the  time  he  sent  you  twenty-five  dollars,  Susie,"  said 
Fanny. 

"  That  is  the  time,  Fanny.  All  these  long  years  I  have  not 
heard  a  word  or  breath  from  my  poor,  hunted  husband.  He  has 
never  forgot  me  though  ;  his  heart  was  too  true.  Henry  Hughes  is 
dead  !  away  from  his  children  and  his  home  !  " 

Pointing  with  her  thin  finger  to  a  box  on  the  shelf,  she  begged 
Fanny  to  take  the  precious  letter  from  it  and  read  it  to  her  again. 
All  through  its  reading  the  response  to  its  brave  and  loving  lines 
were  heart-breaking,  sobbing  grief. 

''There,  dear  Susie,  this  is  too  much  for  you ;  rest  now  and  hear 
what  we  may  offer  to  comfort  you.  Doubtless,  some  calamity  has 
overtaken  your  husband.  He  has  never  deserted  you ;  there  is 
balm  in  that.  His  voyages  to  the  tropics  were  dangerous.  He 
may  be  waiting  for  you  beyond  all  earthly  trials.  Let  us  hope  for 
the  best,  Susie.  •  * 


574  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  Susie,  I  have  a  plan  for  your  dear  children.  In  the  first  place, 
you  may  recover.  If  so,  all  will  be  well  ;  yet  your  disease  is 
treacherous,  and  in  case  your  children  should  be  left  homeless,  I 
will  take  Addie  into  my  protection.  She  shall  grow  up  in  our 
house  as  Fanny  has  done,  if  my  offer  is  satisfactory  to  you." 

Susie  caught  Mrs.  Beame's  hand  in  gratitude,  and  thanked  God 
that  her  young  lamb  would  be  folded  by  an  arm  as  gentle  as  her  own. 

*'  With  all  my  heart,  I  give  her  to  you.  You  will  do  more  for 
her  than  is  in  my  power.  I  could  die  in  peace  if,  also,  my  high- 
spirited  Willie  could  be  saved  from  the  hard  fate  of  his  father.  If 
he  could  be  taught  his  books,  and  taught  to  respect  himself  and 
others ;  taught  to  be  industrious,  patient  and  saving."  Susie 
brought  her  trembling  hands  together,  and  with  closed  eyes,  as  if 
in  petition,  groaned  audibly.  "Oh  !  if  some  kind  roof  could  shel- 
ter him  from  the  cruel  curses  that  follow  his  color  ;  that  he  misht 
not  become  hardened  and  d  esperate  by  that  treatment." 

"  Hush  this  grieving,  Susie,"  a  voice  whispered  in  her  ear,  and 
a  cheek  touched  hers.  It  was  Fanny.  "  Do  not  yield  to  this  sor- 
row. I  believe  I  know  who  will  shelter  Willie  under  just  the 
kind  roof  you  crave.     Do  you  know  Mr.  Link,  the  rich  drover  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  of  him." 

"Mr.  Link,"  continued  Susan's  comforter,  ''is  rich,  and  he  is  an 
abolitionist.  He  has  the  kindest  feelings  for  the  suffering  and 
destitute.  He  is  the  one  that  waited  for  us  in  the  snow,  when 
Richard  was  mobbed  at  the  church,  and  carried  us  home  in  his 
sleigh." 

Susan  grew  calmer. 

"  I  think  he  will  take  Willie  right  home  ;  and  if  he  don't  keep 
him  till  he  is  grown,  he  will  keep  him  till  we  can  find  a  good  home 
for  him." 

Fanny's  cheek  still  touched  Susie's. 

"  Try  to  rest  now  ;  we  will  take  the  burden  from  you." 

"Take  this  sleeping  powder  and  let  your  mind  rest,"  added  Mrs. 
Beame. 

The  day  waned,  still  Susie  slept.  Fann}^  with  the  children,  went 
up  to  Alderbank,  filled  a  basket  with  provisions,  secured  the  doors, 
and  came  back  to  the  cabin  for  the  night. 

The  next  morning,  Doctor  Clarendon-  was  inf9rmed  of  affairs, 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  575 

and  volunteered  to  ride  round  to  inform  Filette  Buddington  how 
much  Susie  needed  the  presence  of  Hester  in  her  last  hours. 

"  Binah  shall  go  to  Mrs.  Buddington,"  said  the  doctor.  "  Our 
nest  is  empty.  Filette  has  many  cares.  I  am  sure  Filette  will 
bring  Hester  as  soon  as  she  hears  my  message," 

Hester  came,  bringing  with  her  a  bountiful  supply  of  necessaries. 
A  week  passed,  and  Hester  sent  the  children,  iii  haste,  for  Mrs. 
Beame.     Hester  met  them  outside  the  cabin,  saying, — 

"  I  think  there's  a  change.     I  cannot  be  alone." 

Susie  whispered, — 

"  I  am  easier,  but  I  think  I  am  going."  Her  face  lightened. 
"  Tell  Henry,  my  poor  Henry,  if  you  ever  see  him,  that  I  loved 
him  to  the  last ;  that  I  thought  of  him  in  my  last  breath.  Kiss  me, 
Fanny,  I'm  going." 

The  small  funeral  wound  up  from  the  river  through  the  grassy 
banks,  bushes  and  alders  to  the  main  road,  followed  by  a  few  who 
loved  the  poor.  In  a  shabby  corner,  overgrown  by  briers  and 
thistles,  remote  from  the  Saxon  pride  of  marble  head-stones  and 
monuments,  Susie  slept  her  last  sleep. 

The  last  of  July,  of  that  summer,  brought  letters  from  Richard 
and  Lucy.  Little  Addie  took  Fanny's  place  as  post-office  messen- 
ger, and  now  brought  her  hands  full  of  letters,  spreading  them  out 
on  Fanny's  lap,  gleefully. 

"  Look,  how  many ;  oh !  Miss  Fanny,  you  will  be  so  glad,  and 
Auntie  Beame  will  be  glad,  too  !  Ugh  !  the  sun  is  so  hot !  Shall  I 
go  and  play  while  you  read,  auntie  ?  Am  I  a  '  little  pitcher,'  auntie .? " 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Beame,  laughingly,  "you  are  a  little  honey 
pitcher."  She  cast  her  arm  around  the  little  body,  pressed  Addie 
to  her  heart,  left  a  kiss  on  the  brown  cheek,  and  said,  "  Go,  now 
and  carry  that  with  you." 

Happy  as  a  golden  butterfly  she  skipped  from  the  room,  while 
Fanny  opened  the  letter  bearing  her  brother's  direction,  and  read 
aloud  to  her  mother, — 

«<9/z/^  — 184— . 
"  Dear  Sister  Fanny,— On  this  first  line,  read  that  we  are  well  and  happy; 
that  will  lift  the  cloud  from  the  sympathetic  face  and  send  a  thrill  of  anticipated 
pleasure  into  those  sisterly  eyes.     We  seem,  for  the  nonce,  to  have  left   the 


C^jG  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

repjion  of  mobs  and  violence,  and  to  have  entered  the  district  whose  'manna 
falls,'  as  our  good  mother  says. 

"  We  came  here  somewhat  worn  by  continued  speaking  and  buffetings  en- 
dured. It  is  a  pleasant  spot,  amid  farms  and  undulating  green.  The  family 
are  staunch  Abolitionists.  In  view,  is  a  fine  farmer's  mansion,  whose  inmates 
and  owners  are  connected  with  the  South.  Two  of  their  sons  are  settled  there, 
and  are  now  on  their  annuul  summer  visit  here. 

"We  have  addressed  meetings  here  in  quiet  security.  This  little  township 
is  not  mobocratic.  This  family  with  Southern  interests,  never  attend  our  meet- 
ings or  make  social  calls  upon  our  hosts.  However,  we  were  informed  privately, 
that  the  wife  of  one  of  the  sons,  who  is  Southern  born,  was  about  to  call  on  us, 
to  say  what,  as  a  Southerner,  devolved  upon  her;  that  she  could  not  see  her 
own  section  made  the  subject  of  contumacy  and  animadversion,  without  due  re- 
monstrance. Therefore  we  were  not  surj^rised  to  receive  a  note  couched  in 
politest  terms,  requestiug  an  inrerview,  with  an  appointment  of  the  dav. 

"We  consented.  On  the  next  afternoon  an  elegant  carriage  with  a  colored 
coachman,  stopped  at  the  gate.  A  lady  of  distinguished  elegance  alighted. 
Iler  chess  and  address  betokened  refinement  and  high  breeding.  She  was  tall, 
with  black,  natural  curls,  a  skin  of  alabaster,  and  eyes  of  such  changeable  brill- 
iancy, that  they  might  have  been  any  or  every  color.  She  asked  for  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Beame,  the  anti-slavery  lecturer.  On  meeting  us  in  the  parlor,  she  re- 
quested the  interview  m.ight  be  strictly  private,  as  her  call  pertained  to  us  alone. 
vShe  urged  that  no  doors  be  clcsed.     We  granted  all. 

"Judge  of  our  surprise,  when,  finding  herself  securely  free  from  interruption, 
the  lady  extended  her  hand  to  Lucy  and  pressed  it  earnestly  between  both  her 
own,  saying,  '  I  have  a  concealed  purpose  in  this  visit;  I  have  not  come  to  re- 
buke either  of  you.  I  have  not  come  to  vindicate  the  South  against  any  'vitu- 
peration,' as  out-siders  name  your  truthful  assertions.'  Here,  she  embraced 
Lucy,  touching  her  brow  with  her  lips.  I  cannot  explain  the  ineffable  and  ten- 
der grace  with  which  this  act  was  done.  She  turned  to  me,  saving,  'accept  my 
unfeigned  admiration  and  gratitude  for  the  heroism  manifested  in  your  two 
lives.  I  have  never  before  looked  upon  an  Abolitionist;  but  here,  mine  eyes 
have  been  blessed  !  from  my  innermost  heart  I  reverence  you,  and  place  you 
far  above  all  the  blue-blooded  nobility  of  our  land.  From  every  throbbing  pulse 
of  my  being,  comes  up  the  cry  that  you  will  continue  to  unfold  the  cruel  out- 
rages of  slavery,  that  you  will  continue  to  measure  the  height  and  depth  of  its 
crimes  by  the  plummet  of  righteousness,  that  you  will  continue  to  scatter  anathe- 
mas that  shall  fall  like  burning  coals  upon  the  dead  consciences  of  the  North  ! ' 

"'You  marvel,  my  friends,  and  justly,  that  I  should  be  possessed  of  this 
strange  frenzy  in  your  favor.  It  is  true  that  the  proud  blue-blood  of  the  aristo- 
crat flows  in  these  veins,' holding  forth  a  hand  more  faultless  than  I  had  ever 
dreamed  of.  '  It  is  true,  I  am  a  daughter  of  the  South.  Do  not  betray  me  — Do 
not  repeat  my  name  —  bury  it  in  your  own  breasts  !  Do  not  recognize  me  or 
my  family  on  our  walks  or  rides.  My  call  here,  will  satisfy  the  neighborhood; 
therefore,  speak  of  me  lightly.  Dear  friends,  say  simply,  that  you  expect  cen- 
sure and  intimidation  from  Southerners,'  She  continued,  '  I  have  a  favor  to 
beg  ;   that  you  will  accept  from  me,  each  of  you,  a  package  to  be  opened  only 


^VHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  577 

after  my  carriage  has  rolled  away.  Continue  your  ministry  to  the  oppressed,  and 
God  will  bless  you.  Night  and  day,  my  poor  prayers  shall  go  up  to  the  Throne 
for  you  both,  for  the  only  two  Abolitionists  I  have  been  permitted  to  meet.'  She 
pressed  both  our  hands,  embraced  Lucy,  saying,  *  Farewell !  Remember  I  am  a 
stranger,  hereafter.' 

"  The  carriage  departed.  Lucy  and  I  retired  to  our  chamber  to  examine 
the  packages.  What  do  you  think,  my  mother  and  sister,  they  contained  ? 
Mine  contained  one  hundred  dollars  enclosed  in  these  words.  'Consider  the 
giver  of  this  small  amount  as  your  parishioner,  hereafter.' 

" '  This  contribution  to  the  meagre  salary  of  one  who  preaches  the  pure  gospel, 
will  be  forwarded  annually,  by  sealed  letters  to  the  care  of  your  present  host, 
through  whom  it  will  reach  Mr.  Beame,  my  revered  pastor.'  I  could  only  accept 
the  opportune  gift  in  silent  thankfulness ;  you,  at  home,  know  well  how  much  I 
needed  it.  Lucy  peered  curiously  at  her  neatly  folded  packet,  raised  it  to  her 
lips  and  removed  the  wrappers  ;  you  should  have  seen  her  utter  a  little  scream 
of  delight,  and  holding  her  gift  up  to  me.  It  was  a  likeness  of^  the  beautiful 
stranger  herself.  The  same  perfection  of  feature  and  hair  and  skin  !  The  daz- 
zling eyes  had  their  native  hautetcr  and  cold  repose ;  but  we  had  seen  them 
melt ;  we  had  seen  this  frigidity  fused  in  her  enthusiastic  devotion  to  what  she 
termed  our  '  heroism.' 

"  The  note  accompanying  the  likeness,  ran  thus  :  '  When  you  look  at  this 
face,  listen  to  the  voice  that  whispers  these  words  from  the  still  lips  ;  *'  do  not 
falter,  dear  lady.  For  the  love  of  God  and  humanity,  do  not  falter-"  You 
shall  see  the  pictured  lips  that  speak,  some  day,  and  hang  it  in  the  secret  cham- 
ber of  the  soul,  side  by  side  with  the  memory  of  Leonora  Wallace.  You  will 
say  she  is  as 

" beautiful  as  ever  looked  ^ 


From  white  clouds,  in  a  dream  :  —  " 

'*  You  know,  Fanny,  Shelly  says, — 

"  Music,  when  soft  voices  die, 
Vibrates  in  the  memory. 
Odors,  when  sweet  violets  sicken. 
Live,  within  the  sense  they  quicken." 

"  So,  around  us  linger  the  sweet  words  and  affection  of  the  beautilul  straHger." 

"  So,"  said   Mrs.  Beame,  at   the   conclusion  of   the   letter,  "  my 
children  entertained  an  angel  unawares." 


578  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

"    A   ND   so   my   pretty  wife   must   go  to   Washington  ?  here    in 
J\  August." 

"  Oh,  yes,  my  husband !  I  desire  above  all  things  to  be  present 
at  the  discussien  of  that  terrible  '  Fugitive  Slave  Act,'  in  the  Capi- 
tal and  out  of  it."  Zaffiri  clasped  her  hands  tightly,  and  with  a 
groan  added,  "  I  wish  to  hear  for  myself  the  fiendish  ring  of  the 
whetting  of  that  sword  which  shall  slay  every  hope  of  Freedom  in 
the  North." 

"  And  you  left  your  pleasant  visiting  days  in  the  healthy  air  of 
Cloudspire,  to  have  your  sensitive  soul  harrowed  by  the  coarse 
bullyings,  murderous  threats,  and  wilful  falsehoods  of  the  advo- 
cates of  that  '  Act ; '  and  to  endure  the  mortification  of  seeing 
Northern  men  yield  to  this  climax  of  compromises?" 

"  Well,  Claude,  as  I  explained  before  our  friends  retired  to 
rest,  our  decision  was  sudden.  We  were  all  sitting  on  the  piazza, 
where,  impulsively,  George  and  Filette  said,  '  Let  us  go  to  Wash- 
ington !  Let  us  enter  the  lion's  den.'  A  swift  compliance  sprang 
to  my  lips.  I  repeated,  '  Let  us  go.'  So  here  we  all  are,  in  New 
York." 

*•  What  if  I  lose  you  there,  among  so  many  Southerners  ?  " 

Zaffiri  uttered  a  light  laugh,  saying, — 

"I  think  after  that  St.  Louis  ordeal,  there  is  nothing  to  fear. 
After  leaning  on  the  arm  of  my  brother  a  whole  evening  and  en- 
joying safety  from  the  dangerous  acquaintance  of  those  South 
Carolinans,  there  will  not  be  much  to  fear  in  Washington." 

"  However  that  may  be,  I  shall  accompany  you,  darling  !  I  am 
your  protector,  till  death  do  us  part." 

"  JVi/l  you  go  ?  I  am  safe  then.  Happy  conclusion  ;  I  shall 
sleep  well  to-night ;  George  and  Filette  will  be  delighted  in  the 
morning." 

"The  Scripture  saith,  'He  giveth  his  beloved  sleep;'  there- 
fore he  will  give  my  blue  eyes  sleep  —  the  sweetest  and  most  re- 
freshing." 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  579 

The  happy  party  arrived  at  the  Capitol  at  night.  The  high  bred 
appearance  of  the  new  arrivals,  obtained  for  them  airy  and  select 
rooms,  Mr.  Lambelle  and  lady  were  assigned  to  a  parlor,  which, 
in  the  crowded  condition  of  the  house,  had  been  furnished  for 
lodgings.  This  parlor,  by  sliding  doors,  communicated  with 
another,  which  was  daily  thronged  with  Southern  and  other  select 
guests. 

The  next  morning,  her  first  in  Washington,  Zaffiri  was  made  an 
involuntary  participator  in  one  of  the  many  social  intrigues  car- 
ried on  in  that  Mecca  of  lover's  vows  and  marital  plans.  While 
engaged  with  her  little  Italian  maid  at  her  late  toilet,  late  from 
the  fatigue  of  the  previous  day,  earnest  conversation  from  the  ad- 
joining parlor  fell  upon  her  ears. 

"  Well,  May,"  said  a  matronly  voice,  "  I  think  you  should  take  a 
little  time  for  reflection,  or  should  have  taken  it  before  this. 
Young  Dentelle  is  a  fine  match  for  any  lady  in  the  land,  but  you 
have  been  playing  off  sadly,  the  week  past.  I  am  sure  he  would 
propose  if  you  gave  him  the  opportunity." 

"So  would  a  dozen  others,  my  dear  mamma, if  I  gave  them  oppor- 
tunity ! "  replied  a  fresh,  gay,  girlish  voice. 

''  A  dozen  others,  my  child  !  preposterous  !  what  have  you  to  do 
with  a  dozen  others  ?  Cease  this  coquetting.     You  can  choose  but 


one" 


"  Why,  mamma,  should  I  choose  Monsieur  Dentelle  ?  That 
young  lieutenant  in  the  navy  is  far  more  captivating  to  me.  His 
martial  air,  it  haunts  me  still !  "  and  her  fingers  rippled  carelessly 
over  the  keys  of  a  piano  like  a  robin's  trill. 

"May  Bloome,  listen.  Put  aside  this  giddy-headed  nonsense. 
Your  lieutenant  is  nearly  a  head  shorter  than  your  own  queenly 
height ;  besides,  his  antecedents  are  in  obscurity.  Dentelle  is  a 
Southerner  —  a  Georgian  —  he  represents  the  blue  blood  and 
high-toned  chivalrous  bearing  which  your  father  values  so  highly. 
He  inherits  slaves  which  would  be  at  your  command.  His  figure 
is  commanding  and  taller  than  yours;  his  intercourse  is  marked 
by  a  dignified  courtesy  for  which  one  looks  in  vain  among  North- 
erners, He  is  a  regal  match  for  you,  May  !  Judging  from  his 
continued  and  delicate  attentions,  I  am  sure  you  have  enchained 
his  affections." 


580  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE. 

A  liquid  symphony  of  chords  and  arpeggios  followed. 

"  My  daughter,  leave  that  instrument  and  listen  to  me  seriously." 

"  Mamma,  of  what  advantage  is  seriousness  ?  It  is  said  repeat- 
edly, that  Southerners  marry  Southerners,  frequently  not  going  out- 
side of  the  family  blood,  in  order  to  retain  estates  in  the  same 
proud  line.  How,  then,  could  Agustus  Dentelle  have  intentions  of 
marriage  with  a  Northerner  —  and  an  Indianian  at  that  ?  He  may 
wish  to  dally  an  idle  hour  with  7Jte  among  many  others,  as  the 
butterfly  flutters  among  flowers." 

"  My  dear  May,  I  beg  you  to  reflect.  At  the  president's  levee, 
where  you  first  met,  he  singled  you  out  from  the  throng  of  fascinat- 
ing beauties,  he  honored  you  with  marked  and  public  attentions, 
from  which  he  has  never  faltered,  smce.  Here,  in  these  parlors, 
he  hangs  upon  every  word  and  act  of  yours,  with  distinguished  ad- 
miration. Besides,  these  Southerners  know  the  status  of  Northern 
men.  Dentelle,  here,  knows  ]\Ir.  Bloome  is  a  staunch  Democrat 
of  the  Southern  type,  supporting  Southern  rights,  bending  all  his 
political  power,  which  is  by  no  means  insignificant,  to  their  sup- 
port. He  knows,  also,  that  your  papa  will  be  a  member  of  the 
constitutional  convention  to  meet  in  Indiana  this  year,  and  that  he 
will  make  every  effort  to  carry  the  measures  which  the  South  de- 
mands." 

"  Mamma,  how  is  it  you  are  so  well  informed  ? "  asked  May,  with 
doubt  in  her  tone. 

"  My  authority  is  your  own  papa,  himself.  Dentelle  has  made 
his  acquaintance  at  the  Capitol,  introduced  him  to  his  friends,  and 
has  invited  him  to  dinner.  It  is  openly  understood  that  you  are  an 
heiress, —  sole  heiress  to  enviable  wealth.  Your  marriage  dower 
will  be  one  hundred  thousand  dollars.  Are  you  convinced,  now, 
that  you  are  worth  winning,  by  even  Augustus  Dentelle  t  and  that 
his  attentions  can  possibly  have  the  charm  of  sincerity  .''  As  to  the 
rest,  your  mirror  will  be  one  of  the  strongest  allies  in  your  decis- 
ion." 

"  Mamma,  I  have  had  sufficient  evidence  of  the  power  of  my 
personal  attractions,  and  perhaps,  if  I  should  look  deep  enough 
down  into  my  volatile  heart,  I  might  find  a  preponderance  for 
Augustus  Dentelle." 

"  It  behooves  you,  then,  my  daughter,  to  take  that  trouble.  Make 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  58 1 

no  delay.  You  may  lose  or  win,  by  the  very  course  you  pursue  to- 
day. There  stands  your  harp,  silent  and  covered,  although  your 
lover  has  repeatedly  solicited  its  music.  Unveil  it  this  morning, 
after  the  breakfast  hours,  and  sweep  from  its  strings  the  delicious 
chords  with  which  you  know  how,  so  well,  to  entrance  all  listeners. 
When  Dentelle's  handsome  turnout  and  servants  bring  him  again 
at  your  feet,  accept  his  invitation  to  an  airing,  and  leave  me  to 
make  excuses  to  others.  Listen,  my  beautiful  May,  you  cannot 
tamper   with   the   fiery    Southern    spirit.      Dare    not    attempt    it 

lon<^er." 

The*  entrance  of  Mr.  Buddington  and  Filette  into    the    parlor 

with  others,  hushed  the  conversation. 

It  had  been  agreed  in  New  York,  by  Mr.  Buddington  and  Mr. 
Lambelie,  that  neither  they  nor  their  wives  should  pass  judgment 
upon  the  scenes  that  might  transpire  at  the  hotel  or  Capitol ;  that 
they  should  shield  themselves  among  the  fire-eaters  by  an  amiable 
silence.  That  they  should  avoid  being  drawn  into  debate,  politely 
baffling  attempts  to  draw  out  their  opinions  on  either  of  the  ^com- 
promises presented  that  session   by  the  plastic  hands  of  Clay." 

"You  see,"  said  Mr.  Lambelie,  *'I  should  be  on  dangerous 
ground  among  those  imperious,  aggressive,  hot-headed  members 
of  Congress  and  their  brood  of  defiant,  daring,  body-guard. 
Zaffiri  and  I  have  enough  at  stake  to  induce  wariness,  w  hile  we 
are  in  the  hands  of  the  Philistines." 

"  I  too,"  said  Mr.  Buddington,  "  have  had  enough  of  Texas  ; 
boundaries,  and  ten  million. loans  included.  What  could  be  said  to 
one  like  '  Holmes  of  South  Caroliha,'  who  solemnly  predicts,  in 
case  of  secession,  that  the  doom  of  New  England  will  be  '  that  of 
Venia,  Palmyra,  and  other  cities  of  the  old  world,  whose  glory  a?id 
prosperity  fttust  be  numbered  among  the  things  that  were  1 '  What, 
but  the  silence  of  contempt,  would  be  a  fitting  reply." 

"  Or  to  that  rabid  '  Morse  '  of  Louisiana,    who    asserts  that  '  a 
^Union  is  not  worth  a  curse,  as  long  as  distinction  exists  between 
negroes  and  horses,"  continued  Zaffiri. 

"  What  better  foil  than  silence,  for  that  other  madman,  Langdon 
Cheeves,  who  affirms  that  the  only  remedy  for  the  South  is  seces- 
sion, and  who  declares  with  imprudent  effrontery, — 

"  *  We  can  scatter  our  enemies  like  autumn  leaves.     California 


582  WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

will  be  a  slave-state;  and  we  will  form  the  most  splendid  empire  on  • 
which  the  sun  shines.'  " 

"  We  are  agreed,  then,  that  upon  entering  that  arena  of  the  fero- 
cious and  untamed,  the  guardian  angel  of  Silence  shall  walk  with 
us  ?  "  said  Mr.  Lambelle. 

"  We  are  agreed,"  was  unanimous. 

Zaffiri  entered  the  crowded  galleries,  at  the  Capitol,  with  her 
accustomed  ease  and  elegant  self-poise.  Room  was  made  tor  her, 
while  jeweled  hands  of  the  South  beckoned  her  to  a  seat  among 
them. 

There  sat  the  beautiful  fugitive,  breathing  her  charmed  life  of 
Freedom  in  the  very  midst  of  her  lynx-eyed  hunters  who  were  held 
in  leash  only  by  a  blind  and  dumb  ignorance  of  their  opportunity. 

There,  on  the  floor  of  the  Senate  chamber,  stood  Mason  of  Vir- 
ginia, holding  forth  the  eight  sections  of  the  '  Fugitive  Slave  Act,' 
which  was  to  make  the  mountains  and  valleys,  the  forests  and 
plains,  the  orchards  and  hearthstones  of  the  North,  sanguinary  and 
guilty  hunting-grounds  for  the  slave-masters  of  the  South,  which 
should  convert  her  citizens  into  baying  bloodhounds,  pursuing  and 
capturing  their  human  prey.  There  were  Webster,  Dayton,  and 
Chase,  with  their'  amendments  for  jury  trial,  rejected.  There  was 
Jefferson  Davis,  triumphant !  filching  the  expenses  of  their  "  slaves' 
delivery,"  from  the  coffers  of  the  National  Government. 

These  were  proudly  pointed  out  to  the  elegant  stranger,  as  they 
mentally  termed  Zaffiri,  by  ladies  on  either  hand.  On  her  left,  sat 
a  young  lady  in  costly  attire,  whose  wonderful  beauty  attracted  ad- 
miring glances  from  all  eyes ;  even  the  staid  senators  below,  found 
time,  in  the  fierce  controversies  of  the  hour,  to  lift  their  gaze  to  her 
wonderful  fascination.  She  was  closely  attended  by  a  tall,  pale, 
young  man,  whose  fiery  spirit  appeared,  at  times,  aflame  with  the 
violent  and  stormy  debate  proceeding  below ;  but,  losing  its  vio- 
lence and  malignant  bitterness  when  it  turned  to  the  lovely  girt 
beside  him,  and  melting  into  acts  of  tenderest  devotion. 

"  My  dear  May,"  he  said,  *'  are  you  content  and  comfortable 
here?  shall  I  not  take  you  into  the  air?  Will  you  not  faint  in  this 
foul  atmosphere  ?  Can  your  deUcate  nerves  endure  this  clash  of 
arms  ? "  > 

"  I  am  perfectly,  well,  Augustus,  and  nicely  seated.     I  am  accus- 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  583 

tomed   to  violent  debate,  both   here  and  in  Indiana.     Papa,  you 
know,  supports  all  Southern  measures." 

"  I  am  gratified  to  have  learned,  Miss  May,  that  Mr.  Bloome  has 
clear  views  of  Southern  rights  and  of  our  constitutional  claims  upon 
the  North." 

He  took  up  her  pearl  and  satin  fan,  and  gently  stirred  the  air, 
devotedly  studying  the  classic  beauty  of  her  face. 

She  turned  politely  to  Zaffiai, — 

"  There  is  Thaddeus  Stevens  upon  the  floor,  holding  a  confer- 
ence with  Mr.  Seward,  of  New  York.  Both  those  senators  are 
enemies  to  slavery  and  hostile  to  Southern  demands.  There  is  Mr. 
Clay,  of  Kentucky,  approaching  the  President's  chair.  He  is  the 
author  of  the  compromises."  She  continued,  "  This  Mr.  Seward 
asserts  that  there  is  a  'higher  law'  than  the  Constitution.  He  has 
rendered  Southern  members  highly  indignant,  and  has  subjected  him- 
self to  the  deserved  odium  of  slave-holders.  There  is  Mr.  Webster 
passing  across  the  chamber.  He  is  an  advocate  of  the  Fugitive 
Slave  Act.  Papa  says,  *  much  to  the  chagrin '  of  Massachusetts, 
which  has,  heretofore,  had  a  great  pride  in  his  masterly  power  in 
behalf  of  Justice,  as  they  term  it.  It  seems  to  me,  that  owners  of 
property  have  a  right  io  take  it,  wherever  it  may  be  found." 

This  last  was  spoken  in  the  tone  of  inquiry. 

Zaffiri  replied, — 

"  Ownership  confers  rights  which  no  laws  or  arguments  should 
resist  or  annul." 

"  Papa  affirms  the  same,"  said  the  young  lady,  with  an  eloquent 
smile.  "  Augustus,  is  not  that  gentleman  speaking  to  Mr.  Mason 
Colonel  Fairland  of  South  Carolina?  and  is  not  the  other  Colonel 
Haywood  .-*  I  am  sure  I  danced  with  both  of  them  at  the  last 
ball." 

"  They  are  the  same,  fair  sylph ;  they  had  the  honor  of  being 
your  partners,  also." 

After  adjournment,  the  only  expression  of  feeling  among  the 
party  was  a  long  pressure  of  Filette's  hand  by  Zaffiri,  and  the 
guarded  reply, — 

"  These  scenes  curdle  one's  blood  !  " 

At  the  hotel.  May  Bloome  increased  her  acquaintance  with 
Zaffiri  and  her  party,  seeming  to  proffer  a  tribute  of  esteem  and  af 


584  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

fection  to  her,  that  w^s  bestowed  upon  no  other.  Madame  Lam- 
belle  must  sit,  chat,  walk,  and  ride  with  May  -Bloome,  recognized 
ever}nvhere  as  the  charming  young  heiress.  She  must  be  intro- 
duced to  May's  friends,  to  Colonel  Haywood  and  Major  Fairland, 
to  Dentelle,  the  elder,  his  lady,  and  a  host  of  accomplished  South- 
ern ladies,  with  whom  May  was  a  general  favorite. 

The  party  remained  until  the  '  Fugitive  Slave  Act  *  became  a 
law  j  till,  with  deep  mortification,  they  had  seen  thirty-three  North- 
ern Congressmen  dodge  the  vote,  and  thirty-one  bow  the  servile 
knee  to  Baal. 

"  Let  us  go,"  said  Squire  Buddington,  "  we  have  witnessed  with 
our  own  eyes  the  thraldom  of  the  North.  We  have  seen  the  gov- 
ernment of  our  Republican  country  which  bears  on  its  frontlet  the 
eternal  Truth,  that  '  all  men  are  created  free  and  equal,'  securely 
corraled  in  that  Slave  pen  !  " 

Arrived  in  New  York,  and  seated  around,  in  the  security  of  Mr. 
Lambelle's  parlor,  the  public  scenes  and  personal  experiences  of 
the  trip  were  socially  rehearsed. 

"  So  we  have  been  converted  into  bloodhounds,  to  be  ready  for 
the  chase  at  the  sound  of  the  master's  horn,"  said  Mr.  Lambelle. 
"  So,  if  your  track  should  be  scented,  my  poor  wife,  instead  of 
being  your  protector,  as  I  have  promised  before  God  and  man,  I 
should  be  forced,  in  obedience  to  United  States'  law  and  the  com- 
mand of  a  brutal  officer,  to  lead  them  into  your  presence,  assist  in 
putting  on  the  manacles,  and  in  thrusting  you  away  from  me  into 
a  master's  power." 

"  Oh  !  my  husband,  to  what  extent  have  those  Southern  madmen 
carried  their  high-handed  domination  ?  Is  there  no  arm  to  stay 
this  tide  of  despotism,  or  strengthen  the  wavering,  imbecile,  com- 
promising North  ?  " 

"  /  have  not  yet  seen  that  arjn,  Zaffiri,"  he  replied,  laying  his 
soothing  hand  on  the  head  bent  with  weeping  over  the  mass  of 
agony  looming  up  in  the  future  of  the  hunted  ones.  & 

"  There  are  twenty  thousand  fugitives  in  the  so-called  Free 
States,"  remarked  Squire  Buddington.  "  Many  of  them  have  been 
settled  here  for  years,  with  homes,  wives  and  children." 

"  Who  can  deliver  them  ? "  asked  Filette.     "  There  is  no  refuge 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  585 

for   US,    but  in  '  Seward's  higher  law.^     We  must   resist  tliis   '  act ' 
even  to  martyrdom." 

"Zaffiri,  5^ou  made  a  strange  but  attractive  friendship  in  Washing- 
ton," said  Mr.  Lambelle,  endeavoring  to  give  a  cheerfnl  tone  to 
the  conversation.  "  Miss  May  Bloome  is  the  belle  of  the  season. 
She  presented  you  with  her  picture.     Let  us  examine  it." 

Being  brought  forward,  it  elicited  exclamations  of  admiration. 
It  was  colored  by  a  master's  brush,  and  was  a  faithful  portrayal  of 
May's  wonderful  beauty. 

"  She  looks  like  a  born  princess,"  said  Filette,  "  without  a 
shadow  of  care  on  the  marvelous  symmetry  of  feature." 

"  There  is  a  royal  cast  of  countenance  and  a  courtly  style  about 
her,  which  one  seldom  meets.  The  dangerous  flattery  of  the  super- 
ficial society  surrounding  her,  has  made  no  inroad  upon  the  unaf- 
fected simplicity  and  ingeniousness  of  her  nature." 

"  She  is  an  only  child,  doted  upon  by  her  parents,  I  believe  ?  " 
said  Filette  inquiringly. 

"  She  is,  but  what  a  pity  that  her  fine  nature  should  be  dwarfed 
by  the  Democratic  teachings  of  her  Democratic  father.  She  be- 
lieves in  the  monstrous  'Fugitive  Slave  Law,'  as  a  simple  act 
securing  the  right  of  property.  She  has  not  a  doubt  on  the  pro- 
priety of  ownership  in  human  beings." 

"  She  is  to  visit  you,  Zaffiri,  this  winter,  on  her  return  to  Indi- 
ana ?  "  asked  her  husband. 

"  Certainly ;  but  we  must  lay  aside  the  scales  of  justice  when 
May  Bloome  arrives,  and  give  ourselves  to  fetes  and  pleasures." 

Eight  days  after,  Zaffiri  and  her  friends  had  witnessed  the  pas- 
sage of  the  odious  bill.  They  sat  cosily  together  awaiting  the  tea 
hour  and  return  of  their  husbands.  Dear  old  Mrs.  Weintze  had 
been  a  visitor  for  the  day.  Unusual  gayety  pervaded  the  happy 
group.  Papa  Weintze  entered  with  the  two  gentlemen,  and  after 
a  filial  embrace  from  Zaffiri  was  led  affectionately  to  the  easiest 
and  roomiest  chair  in  the  parlor.  Turning  to  greet  Mr.  Lambelle, 
who  had  sunk  upon  the  nearest  sofa,  she  was  appalled. 

Pale  and  apparently  speechless  he  gazed  intently  upon  her  ;  her 
own  lips  whitened  ;  she  stood  like  a  statue,  and  cried, — 

"  My  dear  husband,  what  is  the  matter  ?     Speak  to  me."     He 


5S6  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

opened  his  arms.    With  one  long  cry  she  fell  into  the  fond  embrace, 
still  beseeching,  "  Speak  to  me,  speak  to  2affiri  ? " 

"  Zaffiri,  my  precious  wife,  I  have  just  witnessed  a  terrible  scene. 
I  have  just  seen  the  laborious,  faithful,  trusty  John  Hamlet  torn 
from  his  work,  without  a  moment's  warning.  He  was  brutally  hand- 
cuffed and  forcibly  thrust  into  a  carriage,  to  be  sent  to  Baltimore  ; 
to  a  woman,  who  claims  to  be  his  mistress.  Our  Father  !  it  was 
pitiful  to  see  the  wild  despair  in  which  he  begged  for  time  to 
take  a  last  farewell  of  his  wife  and  children  ;  his  pleading  voice 
was  hushed  by  violence  ;  every  heart  was  stone.  I  thought  of  my 
treasure  left  in  this  house  ;  I  hastened  to  the  store  and  with  our 
friends,  hurried  home.  You  are  here,  still,  my  life  !  my  all  !  you 
are  not  yet  torn  from  my  sheltering  home.  On  my  way  here,  I 
made  a  quick  resolve.  To-morrow  s  dawn  must  meet  you,  Zaffiri, 
leaving  this  city.  You  must  go  to  the  home  of  our  friends,  in 
Cloudspire.  From  there,  you  must  go  to  Europe,  when  I  shall 
have  matured  plans,  which  will  be  done  quickly. 

'•  Zaffiri,  I  dare  not  trust  you  here  longer.  Every  link  in  the 
chain  of  events  by  which  you  escaped,  will  be  ferreted  out.  Before 
we  dream  of  it,  the  clanking  of  your  hand-cuffs,  my  precious  dar- 
ling, will  be  heard  in  this  parlor." 

The  awful  danger  so  clearly  depicted,  struck  awe  to  all  present. 
Filette  silently  wiped  away  her  fast-falling  tears.  Old  Dedierich 
Weintze  broke  the  silence. 

."I  think,  dear  child,  your  husband  has  just  grounds  for  fear.  I 
know  the  wicked  determination  of  those  Southerners  ;  they  will 
move  Heaven  and  Earth  to  hunt  out  the  fugitive.  Distance  nor 
time  will  be  taken  into  account ;  and  here,  in  the  North,  they  will 
find  their  willing  agents  at  every  step.  I  would  fly,  my  child,  from 
the  merciless  hunt. " 

Mr  Lambelle  drew  his  stunned  and  weeping  wife  up  from  the 
carpet  to  the  sofa  at  his  side.  He  looked  at  his  watch.  "It  is 
early  ;  there  is  time  before  the  tea  hour,  tor  arranging  prelimina- 
ries. Mr.  Buddington,  you  will  pardon  the  abrupt  termination  of 
your  visit  here.  I  am  sure  you  perceive  the  hard  necessity  which 
impels  immediate  action.  ' 

"  We  are  only  rejoiced  to   be  able,  at  any  moment,  to  assist  in 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  587 

securing  the   safety  of  Madame  Lambelle  ;  whatever  course  you 
may  direct,  we  shall  follow  to  the  letter,"  replied  the  squire. 

"  Then  I  must  leave  this  happy  home  of  years,  and  wander 
among  strangers.     How  long  must  I  stay  ?  "  moaned  Zaffiri. 

"God  only  knows  !  my  poor  lamb,"  tenderly  replied  Mr.  Lam- 
belle. I  cannot  cross  the  water  now,  but  I  shall  find  you,  as  soon 
as  possible.  I  cannot  send  you  away,  alone  ;  some  companion 
must  be  found  to  travel  with  you,  to  divest  your  castaway  life  in 
some  degree  of  its  loneliness." 

He  pressed  his  palm  to  his  forehead,  distracted  with  bittter 
thoughts.  Ah  !  it  behooves  me  to  act  quickly  ;  Mrs.  Buddington 
do  you  think  that  Mary  —  Mrs.  James  Buddington,  could  be  in- 
duced to  accompany  Zaffiri  to  Europe  ?  her  health  is  declining. 
The  journey  might  improve  it.  I  will  be  responsible  for  her  ex- 
penses." 

"It  is  a  sudden  idea,  sir,  but  of  this  I  am  sure.  She  needs  the 
change,  and  your  wife  could  have  no  better  friend.  I  will  use  my 
influence  to  have  her  go." 

"She  must  go  directly  from  Cloudspire.  I  propose  that  to-mor- 
row Zaffiri  arrives  home  with  you,  and  that  the  next  day  they  go  on 
to  Canada,  say  to  Montreal.  The  necessary  equipments  of  cloth- 
ing can  be  obtained  there,  or  in  London.  In  one  week  after 
arranging  business,  I  will  join  them  in  Montreal,  and  make  arrange- 
ments for  the  future.  VVe  should  probably  proceed  to  Halifax, 
where  I  shall  see  them  off,  for  England.  Zaffiri  has  spent  several 
years  in  Europe,  and  with  Mary,  to  whom  she  is  warmly  attached, 
will  get  on  quite  agreeably." 

"  I  will  accompany  them  to  Montreal,"  said  George,  "  if  it  meets 
your  wishes." 

"  I  am  under  many  obligations  for  the  favor,  sir." 

"  By  the  way,"  continued  George,  "  how  would  you  like  to  have 
Issy  travel  with  them  .?  He  has  funds  sufficient,  with  his  annual 
allowance,  to  pay  his  way,  and  the  residence  abroad  would  be  of 
immense  advantage  to  him." 

"  That  is  a  wonderful  idea  ;  he  would  so  much  relieve  both  ladies," 
answered  Mr  Lambelle. 

"  I  should  have  a  delightful  family  in  my  exile,  if  both  consent  to 


588  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

your  plans,  Claude  !  but  you,  my  deserted  husband,  who  can  pour 
the  oil  of  joy  into  your  life  ?  " 

"  Nevermind  that,  my  beautiful.  Think  that  my  chief  joy  will 
be  to  know  that  you  are  free,  and  that  somcth?ie  and  somewhere^  our 
domestic  peace  and  happiness  will  be  established." 

"  Mamma  Weintze  will  look  after  Mr.  Lambelle,"  said  the  good 
matron.  "  We  will  comfort  him.  Leave  him  to  us,"  she  continued, 
in  a  soft,  broken  voice.  "  Leave  this  house  to  me,  dear  child ; 
there  is  your  tea  bell."  She  encircled  Zaffiri  with  a  motherly  arm. 
"  Come  take  refreshment  j  let  us  trust  in  Him  who  orders  human 
events." 

There  was  no  sleep  for  these  four  friends,  that  night.  Prepaitions 
for  a  long  absence  required  much  time,  and  they  were  to  start 
before  dawn.  The  heavy  traveling  trunks  were  packed  by  Filette 
and  Cossetina.  A  nervous  helplessness  came  upon  Zaffiri,  who,  by 
turns  moaned  upon  the  sofas,  or  walked  the  floor,  on  the  arm  of  her 
pale  and  suffering  husband. 

"To-morrow  night,  my  dear  wife  will  be  safe  under  the  flag  of 
England  !  Ten  thousand  curses  rest  upon  our  '  Stars  and  Stripes, 
the  flaunting  lie  ! '  "  he  said.  One  week  will  soon  pass,  and  you 
will  greet  me  again  mfree  Montreal." 

The  journey  to  Cloudspire  was  swift  and  undisturbed,  save  by  the 
thoughtful  silence  of  the  fugitive  in  the  care  of  George  and  Filette. 
The  sun  was  sinking  behind  the  familiar  western  woods,  when  they 
drew  near  their  pleasant  grounds.  A  feeling  of  security  pervaded 
the  conversation.  Each  felt  that  immediate  jeopardy  was  left 
behind. 

The  carriage  turned  into  the  yard. 

"  Well,  well  ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Buddington,  "  what's  all  this  ! 
One,  two,  three,  four  buggies  hitched  here  !  Filette,  I  guess  Ro- 
land and  his  mother  have  given  a  surprise  party." 

Before  they  alighted,  Mrs.  Clarendon  and  Hester  appeareed  on 
the  green,  with  open  arms  to  receive  their  friends. 

"  What  sent  you  home  so  soon  ?  "  cried  Hester.  "  Oh  !  I'm  so 
glad  you're  here  !  Dear  Mrs.  Lambelle,  are  you  sick  ?  Lean  on 
my  arm,  you  look  like  fainting." 

Mrs.  Clarendon  drew  Filette's  arm  in  hers,  saying, — 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  589 

"  How  welcome  you  all  are  !  we  could  not  expect  you  so  soon. 
Dear  me  !  we've  so  much  to  tell  you." 

Dr.  Clarendon  descended  the  steps. 

"  Holloa,  George !  you  see  we've  taken  possession  of  your 
house  —  a  good  deal  better  than  ours,  you  see  — -  a  great  tempta- 
tion. Come  in  and  see  how  we  carry  sail,  while  you  are  hob- 
nobing  with  those  much- to-be-esteemed  Southerners,  in  Washing- 
ton." ,  .       , 

They  entered  the  parlor,  charmed  by  the  unexpected  welcome, 
but  still  marveling  at  the  unexplained  gathering.  Here  they  were 
saluted  by  Mr.  Glenly,  from  East  Elms,  Mr.  Link,  and  their  two 
anti-slavery  friends  from  the  quiet  valley  in  their  own  town.  On 
the  sofa,  supported  by  pillows,  Issy  reclined.  His  head  was  care- 
fully bound  up,  and  he  only  extended  his  hand  in  place  of  his  cus- 
tomary enthusiastic  salutation. 

"  What  has  happened  my  dear  boy  ? "  exclaimed  George,  in  a 
quiet  tone  of  alarm.    "No,  be  quiet,  Paisley.     Doctor,  what  does 

it  all  mean?" 

"  Do  explain,  quickly  !  "  begged  Filette. 

"  Sit  down  then,  and  get  your  pulses  into  salubrious  action. 
Remember,  I  am  professionally  master  of  ceremonies.  Be  seated, 
I  say,  or  I'll  administer   a  nerve  tonic   to  all  five  of  you,  before  a 

word  is  said." 

Meantime  the  red  bandana  performed  its  customary  office. 

"  There,  now,  we  are  all  right.  You  see  George,  while  you  all 
were  at  the  Capitol  plotting  secession  and  the  destruction  of  the 
Constitution,  hatched  by  the  wisdom  of  our  infallible  fathers,  we, 
peace-loving  and  law-abiding  citizens,  as  we  are,  remained  in  our 
obscure  homes,  to  give  an  early  test  of  the  humane  law  of  the 
United  States,  termed  the  '  Fugitive  Slave  Act'  By  the^  loyal 
assistance  of  Mr.  Lappin,  as  wary  a  hound  as  any  other  in  the 
service  of  our  glorious  Republic,  in  conjunction  with  Cloudspire's 
disguised  admiral,  Lem  Hamm,  distinguished  by  the  rings  in  his 
ears  and  by  the  awful  majesty  of  the  power  of  a  United  States 
marshal  from  West  Elms,  we  have  performed  every  iota  of  that 
'  Act '  this  day,  except  taking  the  property  claimed  back  to  bond- 
age." 


590  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

This  information  was  given  with  rhetorical  effect,  the  doctor  on 
his  feet  and  gesticulating  before  his  listeners. 

"  We,  and  our  coadjutors,  before  mentioned,  have  proven  our 
fealty  to  the  Union,  by  putting  every  element  of  this  '  Act '  to  its 
trial  in  legal  proportions.  There  was  surprise,  violence,  blood- 
shed, prayer,  blasphemy,  sympathy,  atrocit}'^,  despair,  hope,  hand- 
cuffs and  torture,  black  villainy  and  white  innocence,  piratical 
robbery,  and  swift  retribution.  By  Jove  !  gentlemen,  those  are 
ingredients  for  a  Christian  dose,  that  ought  to  render  the  par- 
taker fit  for  the  highest  Heaven.  Come  here,  Hester  ;  take  the 
stand.     I'm  tired.     Give  some  of  this  morning's  particulars." 

"Do,  Hester,"  begged  Filette;  "omit  nothing.  ' 

"  I  will  if  I  can,  Sirs.  Buddington  ;  but  I've  been  as  wild  as  a 
hawk,  all  day.  When  I  speak  of  it  I  half  lose  my  senses.  I've 
done  nothing  all  day,  but  run  from  room  to  room  and  look  down 
the  road,  shake  my  fists,  and  vow  vengeance.  Why,  they'll  have 
fpie,  next !  " 

"  There  is  no  doubt  but  resort  will  be  had  to  kidnapping," 
remarked  Mr.  Glenly ;  "  but,  Hester,  you  are  in  good  hands  ;  you 
are  well  known  in  this  place." 

''  We  will  all  take  care  of  you,  Hester,"  answered  Filette,  sooth- 
ingly.    Go  on,  now,  and  tell  us  about  it." 

"  Well,  I  got  up  early,  did  the  milking,  skimmed  the  cream,  and 
got  breakfast,  so  that  Issy  could  go  down  to  the  doctor's  to  study 
his  books.  About  nine  o'clock,  three  men  rode  up  to  the  kitchen 
door  in  a  two-seated  wagon  ;  one  was  a  stranger,  but  the  other 
two  I  knew  ;  one  was  that  fool-minded  Lappin  that  came  here 
after  Robert ;  the  other  was  that  old  blotch-faced  sailor,  Lem 
Hamm,  that  helped  tear  up  your  pew  in  the  meeting-house. 

"  The  stranger  asked  if  Mr.  Buddington  was  at  home,  and  when 
he  would  come .''  I  said  I  didn't  know,  and  they  went  away  as  I 
supposed. 

"  About  ten  o'clock,  I  heard  a  dreadful  cry  of  murder  down  the 
road.  I  ran  to  the  door,  and  there  in  plain  sight,  was  Issy  deal- 
ing a  blow  at  old  Lappin,  that  sent  him  reeling  against  the  fence. 
Then  Lemm  Hamm,  with  a  great  club,  knocked  Issy  down.  He 
lay  like  a  dead  man  ;  they  all  bent  over  him,  put  irons  on  his  wrists, 


THE   STRUGGLE   FOR   LIBERTY. 


WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  59 1 

led  their  horse  and  wagon  out  of  the  birches  and  lifted  Issy  in ; 
got  in  quick  themselves,  swearing,  and  drove  off. 

"  I've  heard  so  much  about  such  works,  that  I  thought  in  a  min- 
ute they  were  going  to  send  him  back  South.  I'm  pretty  quick  to 
think  sometimes,  so  I  run  up  to  Issy's  trunk,  turned  everything 
bottom  up  on  the  floor,  snatched  the  box  that  had  his  '  free  papers' 
in,  hid  it  in  my  bosom  and  ran  to  the  barn.  I  slipped  the  bridle 
on  that  fast  horse  in  quick  metre.  I  didn't  stop  for  no  saddle  ; 
I  said,  '  Now,  Jupe,  I'll  ride  as  fast  as  you  can  run.'  I  gave  him  a 
cut  and  off  we  went.  Jupe  run  like  a  rabbit.  I  took  the  cross 
road  by  the  spring,  and  got  to  the  doctor's,  first.  He  saw  me  com- 
ing, and  stood  out  there  to  stop  me." 

"  Yes,  yes  !  "  exclaimed  the  doctor.  "I  thought  she  and  Jupe 
both,  were  crazed.  Old  Revolutionary  Putnam's  race  down  the 
stone  steps  was  no  touch  to  Hester's  ride.  She  slid  off  like  a  cat 
and  glanced  at  me  like  a  cat.  '  Doctor,'  she  said,  *  they've  got 
Issy,  to  steal  him,  they've  knocked  him  down  ;  and  I  don't  know 
but  he's  dead  ;  they  are  coming  ;  there  they  are,  down  in  the  hol- 
low. Jump  on  to  Jupe's  back,  do,  doctor,  quick !  and  run  him  to 
the  depot ;  you'll  get  there  in  time  for  the  cars,  and  they'll  carry 
you  to  West  Elms,  before  any  horse  can  go  there.  Where's  your 
saddle .?     I'll  put  it  on  for  you  — but  do  go.' 

"  Oh,  you  ninny !  said  I,  if  you  can  ride  bare-back,  can't  I  ? 
lead  Jupe  into  the  shed  before  they  go  past.  They  came  up  the 
hill  rather  slow,  breathing  their  horse.  There  the  devils  were 
holding  up  Issy ;  he  hadn't  come  to,  yet ;  he  had  no  hat  on,  and 
the  blood  was  streaming  down  his  face." 

"  Halloo,  there  !  says  I,  who  pays  you  for  that  work .''  God,  the 
devil,  or  the  United  States  Congress  ?  I'll  join  your  '■posse  comit- 
atiis.'  ■' 

"  Mind  your  own  business,  or  you  may  have  a  bullet  wound  to. 
dress  ior yourself,''  yelled  Lem  Hamm.     "All  hands  ahoy." 

"  I  roared  after  him, — 

"  *  I'll  lend  a  hand.' 

"They  drove  ahead ;  I  snatched  the  box  from  Hester,  jumped 
on,  and  Jupe  did  his  best,  which  is  better  than  any  horse  about 
here  can  do.  We  went  round  by  Hickory  Street,  Jupe  and  I.  We 
headed  the  devils  off.    I  got  to  the  depot,  just  as  the  cars  came  up. 


2^2  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

^  A  case  of  life  and  death  /'  I  said,  *  lake  care  of  my  horse  !  *  threw 
fifty  cents  on  the  platform  and  jumped  aboard.  I  went  straight  to 
Judge  Way's  office,  told  him  the  trouble,  and  gave  him  Issy's  '  free 
papers.'  We  both  slipped  into  the  old  tavern  where  we  knew 
they'd  stop.  I  went  out  and  collected  a  half  dozen  of  our  good 
friends.     We  were  all  ready  with  a  strong  team,  for  the  Right." 

"They  came  up,  followed  by  the  rag-tag  and  bob-tail  of  all  mean- 
ness, shouting  and  whooping  like  savages.  Issy  had  come  too,  and 
was  able  to  walk  into  a  dark  little  back  room  ;  we  followed  close 
to  their  heels,  and,  for  a  few  minutes  there  was  hot  work. 

"  Judge  Way  wound  the  rascals  over  his  little  finger.  He  told 
them  their  prisoner  had  a  rich  white  father,  in  Charleston ;  that, 
although  his  mother  was  black,  and  a  slave.  Doctor  Paisley  loved 
his  son  as  well  as  any  father  there,  loved  his  ;  '  and,  far  more  so,' 
said  he,  '  for  I  believe  such  black  villians  as  I  see  before  me  now 
would  never  give  their  child  a  deed  of  freedom,  if,  like  Doctor 
Paisley,  they  could  sell  one  for  fifteen  hundred  dollars.' 

"  Ishmael  Paisley  holds  a  deed  of  himself,  which  neither  you, 
nor  any  judge,  nor  any  court,  nor  any  congress  can  annul." 

He  slowly  unfolded  the  papers  and  read  them  aloud.  The  ras- 
cals were  cowed, — 

''  'Take  off  those  manacles,'  thundered  the  Judge  ;  'they  belong 
on  your  wrists,  instead  of  the  prisoner's.  If  Doctor  Paisley  were 
here,  you'd  feel  his  bowie  knife  as  the  tree  feels  the  lightning-bolt 
of  heaven.' 

"  The  deputy-marshall  then  made  his  defense,  said  he  was  a  green 
hand  in  the  business,  and  that  he  acted  on  information  ;  that  no 
man  wished  to  walk  within  the  letter  of  the  law,  more  than  he  did. 
It  all  came  out.  That  infernal  Lappin  and  Hamm  worked  up  the 
whole  thing.  I  threatened  to  put  the  screws  on  to  them,  and  they 
were  soon  among  the  missing. 

"  Who  should  come  in,  towards  the  last,  but  our  friend,  Glenly, 
here,  the  Lord's  own  good  Samaritan.  He  brought  us  out  from 
West  Elms,  in  his  own  carriage.  I  dressed  Issy's  wounds,  com- 
manded him  to  lie  there,  and  here  we  all  are." 

"  What  became  of  you,  Hester,"  asked  Zaffiri. 

"  I  declared  I  wouldn't  go  back  without  Mrs.  Clarendon.  I  har- 
nessed while  she  got  ready,  and  we  came  back  to  Mary.     I  haven't 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  593 

been  good  for  anything,  all  day ;  but  we've  managed  to  get  a  nice 
tea,  and  there's  plenty  for  you.  Mr.  Clarendon  and  Mary  have 
more  than  I." 

"  Hester  was  to  be  pitied,"  replied  the  former  lady.  "  I  thought 
*  Tarn  O'Shanter '  was  driving  me  up  here,  and  she  seemed  to 
believe  that  witches  and  imps  were  in  close  pursuit.  Binah  saw 
Issy  pass,  from  our  window,  and  said, — 

"  '  Dar  dey  go ;  jes'  like  Souf.  Dem  de  slave  trader.  Issy  gone, 
bleeding,  half  dead.  I  s.een  dat  sight,  fifty  time.  Dis  Nort'  gettin' 
'cisely  like  de  Souf.  Go,  missis,  wid  Hester;  she  go  crazy  'fore 
night.' " 

Squire  Buddington  comforted  Issy,  expressing  gratification  that 
matters  were  no  worse. 

"  You  are  home  again.  This  thing  will  never  be  tried  over.  God 
will  avenge  your  cause,  and  I  trust  you  will  live  to  witness  this 
debt  paid,  Issy." 

In  the  interim,  before  tea,  Zaffiri  drew  her  chair  to  Issy's  couch, 
and,  with  a  sympathy  more  expressive  than  words,  held  his  hand 
and  soothed  its  throbbing  pulses. 

The  two  friends  from  the  green  valle}^,  returned  before  tea. 

Directly  after  tea,  Mr.  Glenly  took  his  long  ride  home,  to  East 
Elms  ;  the  doctor  and  his  wife  remained  for  the  evening.  The 
secret  of  Zaffiri's  birth  and  enslavement  was  known  to  none  but 
George  and  Filette ;  it  was  as  safe  with  them  as  within  her  own 
breast.  Again  in  the  parlor,  George  broached  the  subject  of 
travel  abroad,  to  Mary.  Argument  and  persuasion,  in  which 
Doctor  and  Mrs.  Clarendon  and  Mr.  Link  united,  together  with  the 
evident  benefit  to  her  health,  resulting  from  change  of  scene,  at 
length  prevailed.  Much  to  the  surprise  of  the  others,  the  squire 
drew  his  chair  to  Issy's  couch,  saying, — 

"How  would  yoii  like  to  go  along  with  the  ladies,  travel  in 
Europe,  and  look  after  them  for  Mr.  Lambelle  ^ " 

"  And  abandon  this  one  object  of  my  life  —  the  study  of  medi- 
cine ?  "  he  asked  in  alarm. 

"  Abandon  it  ?  by  no  means,  by  no  means,"  cried  the  doctor, 
waving  the  victorious  bandana  ;  "  there  is  no  abandoning  about  it. 
Tuck  yourself  into  one  of  those  German  Universities,  and  study 
medicine  to  your  hearts  content  j  more  than  I  can  ever  teach  you. 


594  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK  JUNE. 

Why,  study  abroad,  man,  like  a  Southerner's  son,  as  }'OU  are." 

"That's  it,"  said  George;  "get  these  ladies  settled  in  France, 
Italy,  or  Germany,  without  fear  of  being  hunted  or  stolen,  and  take 
your  foreign  diploma." 

"That  would  be  delightful,  Issy,"  exclaimed  Zaffiri. 

"There  will  be  no  Doctor  Clarendon's  there,  I  am  afraid." 

"  There  will  be  just  and  equitable  laws  which  will  answer  for 
good  Doctor  Clarendon.  Those  monarchies  make  no  distinction 
of  complexion  like  our  Republic.  Here,  .you  will  find  difficulty  in 
entering  any  medical  college.     I  advise  you  to  go,  Issy."' 

"  Then,  let  me  go,  Mr.  Buddington,  though  I  leave  behind  me 
all  I  love  on  earth." 

"  Now.  Mary,"  asked  Filette,  "  will  you  be  ready  to  depart  before 
light,  in  the  morning.'"' 

"  To-morrow  morning  ? " 

"Yes,  to-morrow  morning.  Mr.  Lambelle  has  decided  his  wife 
must  go  on  immediately;  George  will  see  you  both  to  Montreal. 
Equipments  of  travel  can  be  procured  there,  better  than  here. 
Mary,  you  are  bewildered  ;  I  will  say  '  yes  '  for  you." 

Issy  began  to  rise  slowly  from  the  pillows. 

"  Paisley,  lie  down  again,"  cried  the  doctor ;  "  this  hurry-scurry 
won't  do  for  j-ou.  These  invalid  ladies  don't  want  a  crazy  brain 
fever  to  manage,  in  Montreal ;  and,  if  you  are  going  among  Ger- 
man doctors,  so  much  above  your  old  teacher,  I  want  to  prove  that 
Doctor  Clarendon,  of  Cloudspire,  Massachusetts,  has  some  skill  in 
mending  broken  heads." 

A  hearty  laugh  went  round  and  scattered  the  solemnity,  creeping 
into  the  atmosphere  of  sudden  preparation. 

"  Madame  Lambelle,  how  long  shall  you  remain  in  Montreal  ?  " 
asked  Issy,  sinking  again  into  the  pillows. 

"Two  weeks,  perhaps.  My  husband  will  join  us  there  in  one 
week.     Perhaps  the  doctor  will  allow  you  to  go  on  with  him." 

"There,  you  young  Southerner,"  cried  the  doctor,  triumphantly, 
"  time  enough  yet ;  so  keep  your  bed  for  a  few  days,  at  least ; 
there,  we'll  determine  the  rest.  We  want  you  to  live.  God  has 
called  you  for  some  purpose.  Mrs.  Buddington,  we  must  get  our 
patient  into  a  quiet  bed,  out  of  the  way  of  noise  and  confusion, 
before  another  step  is  taken." 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  595 

When  Mr.  Link  bade  Issy  "good-night,"  he  offered  the  friendly 
assurance  that,  if  the  doctor  detained  him  longer  than  one  week, 
he,  himself,  would  take  him  to  Montreal,  in  good  time. 

"  Good-night,  poor  child,"  said  Zaffiri,  "  we  will  not  leave  you  in 
America.     We  shall  wait  till  you  join  us." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE  Congress  of  185 1  assembled  in  due  form  in  December. 
It  drew  together,  in  its  train  from  the  various  States,  a  reti- 
nue of  Northern  and  Southern  men,  with  their  families  of  fascinat- 
ing daughters,  and  gay,  dashing,  ardent,  young  men,  besides  a 
sprinkling  of  foreigners  seeking  to  observe  the  operations  of  a 
Republican  Government.  Added  to  these,  were  the  empty-headed 
votaries  of  fashion  and  display,  adorning  with  fire-fly  brilliancy, 
the  solemn,  imposing  scenes  of  the  great  sectional  struggles  going 
on  at  that  time  on  the  two  National  arenas  of  the  Capitol.  Hotels 
were  filled.  Private  establishments  were  set  up;  some,  with  as 
full  a  complement  of  slaves  in  attendance  as  one  would  see  in  a 
Southern  plantation  home. 

Mr.  Bloome,  a  Democrat  from  Indiana,  returned  with  his  ele- 
gant wife  and  daughter.  He  took  a  house  with  spacious  apart- 
ments and  elaborate  upholstery,  flooded  with  marble,  glass,  and 
silver  in  princely  proportions.  Well-trained  lackeys  waiced  in  his 
halls,  prepared  luxuries  in  his  kitchen,  and  served  his  guests. 
They  called  him  by  the  flattering  name  of  master  j  but,  that  all- 
potent  word,  he  hired  with  his  servants. 

Dentelle,  the  Georgian,  with  his  Northern  wife  and  family,  were 
domiciled  in  a  roomy  mansion,  which  echoed  with  the  hurrying 
steps  of  his  own  slaves.  The  appellation  of  master,  for  him,  was 
the  grand  American  inheritance,  the  swindling  title  that  cheated 
the  Constitution  out  of  its  well-meant  Equality,  and  left  the  mam- 
moth skeleton  without  a  soul. 

Both  mansions  held  ample  accomodations  for  the  dinner  parties, 
in  the  winter's  prospect.  Both  gentlemen  drove  out  with  liveried 
coachmen.      Each   carried  May  Bloome,  the  reigning  belle,  and 


596  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

each  turnout  alike   basked  in  the  obsequious  courtesy  of  the   ad- 
miring promenade. 

Colonel  Fairland  and  family  from  "  Le  Grand  Palais  "  were  at 
the  Capitol.  Ralph  Haywood,  with  his  trusting  wife,  Gracie,  from 
Charleston,  were  also  within  the  noted  circle.  These  gentlemen 
were  both  heavy  rice  planters ;  and,  as  such,  were  the  acknowl- 
edged leaders  of  Southern  ton,  guarding  their  high  invitations 
and  other  social  favors  within  the  strictist  lines  of  caste.  Colonel 
Haywood  was  pointed  to  all  strangers  as  the  haughtiest  political 
dictator  and  the  most  vehement  claimant  of  Southern  Rights  on 
the  ground.  He  wore  habitually  the  bowie  knife  and  pistol.  On 
the  blade  of  the  former,  one  read  the  warning,  "  Death  to  Aboli- 
tionists," and,  in  the  fierce  debates  of  that  day,  its  swift  gleaming 
often  flashed  prophetically  in -the  Senate  Chamber,  Representative's 
Hall,  and.  the  lobby.  The  only  labor  which  his  adoring  wife 
deigned  to  perform,  was  to  polish  carefully  its  glittering  surfaces, 
murmuring  idolatrously, — 

"  This  is  our  only  shibboleth  of  safety  and  ultimate  victory  over 
the  mud-stained  hordes  of  the  North!" 

Once,  during  the  session,  in  the  midst  of  a  coterie  of  morning 
calls  of  her  own  class,  she  begged  her  husband  to  draw  this  knife 
from  the  sheath,  that  her  friends  might  enjoy  its  perfection  of  finish 
and  adaptability  of  purpose.  As  it  passed  from  hand  to  hand,  one 
lady  said, — 

"  My  son  wears  one  of  the  same  pattern." 

"  My  husband,"  said  another,  "  has  a  blade  precisely  like  it. 
He  says  he  either  wears  it  next  his  heart,  or  lays  it  on  his  Bible." 

"  That  instrument  would  be  a  quietus  for  those  outrageous 
traitors  to  our  Constitution,  who  continue  to  infest  Congress,  de- 
spite the  protestations  of  the  South." 

"  True,  my  dear  Mrs.  Haywood,"  replied  one  of  her  friends. 
"  It  would  be  a  magnificent  answer  to  that  upstart  '  Sumner,'  from 
Massachusetts.  Did  you  hear  his  atrocious  language,  on  what  he 
termed  our  efforts  to  '  repress  liberty  of  speech  ?  " 

"I  was  kept  in  by  indisposition."  » 

"  Do  repeat  it !  "  demanded  the  others.  "  You  have  the  exact 
words  —  you  repeat  it  so  splendidly.     Let  us  listen,  ladies." 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  597 

Intense  scorn  marred  her  fine  features,  while  she  slowly  re- 
peated,— 

"  The  convictions  of  the  heart  cannot  be  repressed.  The 
utterances  of  conscience  must  be  heard !  They  break  forth  with 
irrepressible  might !  As  well  attempt  to  check  the  tides  of  the 
ocean,  the  current  of  the  Mississipi,  or  the  rushing  waters  of  Niag- 
ara. The  discussion  of  slavery  will  proceed,  wherever  two  or 
three  are  gathered  together,  by  the  fireside,  on  the  public  highway, 
at  the  public  meeting,  in  the  church.  The  movement  against 
slavery  is  from  theEverlasting  Arm  !  Even  now  it  is  gathering  its 
forces,  soon  to  be  confessed  everywhere.  It  may  not  yet  be  felt 
in  the  high  places  of  office  and  power  ;  but  all  who  can  put  their 
ears  humbly  to  the  ground,  will  hear  and  comprehend  its  incessant 
and  advancing  tread  !  " 

*'  Sumner !  prating  of  heart  and  conscience  ! "  excitedly  re- 
torted Mrs.  Linde,  from  Alabama.  "  That  daring  abolitionist,  and 
all  others  of  his  foul  blood  have  neither.  It  were  well  for  infidel 
fanatics,  who  threaten  to  deluge  our  land  in  blood,  to  pay  heed 
to  the  wise  teachings  of  Professor  Stewart,  of  Andover  Theological 
Seminary ;  in  the  very  Massachusetts  which  fosters  such  vipers  as 
Garrison  and  Sumner.  Professor  Stewart  has  written  a  labored 
pamphlet,  entitled  '  Conscience  and  the  Constitution  ; '  in  which  he 
exhausts  argument  in  vindication  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Act.  He 
has  also  signed  a  letter,  '  thanking  Mr.  Webster  for  his  advocacy 
of  compromise  measures.'  That  is  the  kind  of  authority  that  sets 
the  seal  of  righteousness  upon  our  political  demands." 

"Alabama  is  safe  when  Mrs.  Linde  defends  her!"  ejaculated 
Mrs.  Haywood.     She  should  go  upon  the  Congressional  floor." 

"  Nay,  nay,  my  dear  friend  !  "  replied  Mrs.  Linde.  Her  voice 
sank  to  a  devotional  inflection.  "  Nay,  nay !  within  woman's 
holy  sphere,  within  the  sanctity  of  home,  at  the  mother's  knee,  at 
the  altar  of  prayer,  let  us  teach  our  sons  to  hate  and  resist  to 
the  death  these  frenzied  Northern  murderers  who  strive  to  subvert 
the  very  teachings  of  God,  himself." 

"  Murderer  is  the  term  which  Mr.  Weller  applied  openly  to 
Sumner,  and  to  all  others  who  advise  resistance  to  the  law,"  sug- 
gested Mrs.  Haywood. 

"  This  Massachusetts  senator,  Sumner,  must  have  shrank   from 


59^  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

the  fierce  onset  of  arrow  and  lance,"  said  Mrs.  Fairland,  with  en- 
thusiasm. "  Ah  !  indeed,  Mrs.  Haywood,  you  should  have  been 
present  when  Mr.  Clay,  from  Alabama,  branding  him  as  a  ^sneak- 
ing, sinuous,  snake-like  poltroon,  feeling  the  obligation  fieit/ier  of  the  di- 
vine law,  nor  of  the  law  of  the  land,  nor  of  the  law  of  honor. ^  You 
should  have  heard  the  approving  volleys  of,  '  Good  !  good  !  right ! 
true !  *  which  rained  around  the  valliant  Alabamian  from  our 
ladies*  gallery." 

"  There  it  is,  ladies  !  "  ejaculated  Colonel  Haywood  ;  "  the  law 
of  honor  with  one  quick  pull  of  a  trigger,  would  cut  short  long,  use- 
less harangues,  and  save  millions  of  Congressional  expense  to  the 
Treasury.  That  postulate,"  exhibiting  his  gold-mounted  pistol, 
"  would  bring  the  so  much  desired  era  of  peace  and  brotherly 
love.*' 

^' Mon  Dieuf^^hQ  ejaculated,  abruptly  breaking  the  thread  of 
conversation.  "  There  goes  Gus  Dentelle  and  his  Northern  affi- 
anceey  A  lowering  frown  shadowed  his  features.  "  There  must 
be  a  corrupt  vein  somewhere  in  the  Dentelle  blood;  father  and  son 
marry  Northerners." 

"  This  alliance  is  not  to  be  deprecated,  Colonel,"  replied  Mrs. 
Fairland.  "Mr.  Fairland  is  almost  in  love  with  May  Bloome,  him- 
self. I  think  I  must  come  to  the  rescue.  Mr.  Bloome,  her  father, 
is  Southern  in  principle,  a  good  Democrat,  acceding  to  the  adv^ance- 
ment  and  enforcement  of  all  Southern  demands.  Of  course,  he 
cannot  absolutely  hold  slaves,  in  Indiana." 

''With  all  deference  to  your  kindly  judgment,  Mrs.  Fairland,  I 
will  leave  this  subject  to  the  amiable  discussion  of  my  fair  friends. 
I  am  sure  Mr.  Bloome  will  receive  justice  at  this  tribunal.  I 
reluctantly  beg  to  be  excused,  in  order  to  fulfil  an  important 
engagement.     Charlotte,  ring  the  bell." 

This  last  request  was  given  to  Grace's  maid  ;  she  had  just  en- 
tered, on  some  slight  service  for  her  mistress.  Grace,  as  the  wife 
of  Ralph  Haywood,  still  preserved  the  same  unfaltering  trust  in 
the  integrity  of  her  father  and  husband,  as  she  manifested  in  the 
tete-et-tete  with  Leonore  Wallace,  on  the  day  of  her  lover's  arrival 
from  Paris.  From  the  time  Charlotte  was  sent  up  from  Charles- 
ton to  Vaucluse,  apparently  by  the  selection  of  Colonel  Hay- 
wood's factors,  to  be  installed  seamstress,  she  had  pleased   Grace. 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  599 

The  neat  turban,  the  plain  dress,  the  quiet  submission  to  her  orders, 
and  the  quick  anticipation  of  her  wishes,  answered  the  need  she 
had  long  felt,  since  the  sale  of  Zoe. 

Charlotte  was  therefore  promoted  to  the  office  of  lady's  maid, 
that  Grace  might  have  the  benefit  of  her  deft  fingers,  and  fine  taste 
in  her  dressing-room,  and  at  her  expensive  toilet.  Grace  had  said 
to  her  husband, — 

"Costly  fabrics  and  elegantly  made  dresses  fail  in  effect,  if 
they  be  not  tastefully  arranged.  Charlotte  will  equal  that  false, 
deceptive  Zoe  of  mine,  that  was  sold  into  a  cotton-field,  for  her 
duplicity.  I  see  no  taint  of  it,  in  Charlotte  ;  she  has  the  same  in- 
nate perception  of  becomingness,  and  propriety  as  Zoe,  in  what- 
ever costume  I  appear.  Therefore,  Ralph,  you  will  write  Ker- 
shaw &  Lewis,  for  another  seamstress  ;  and  I  shall  expect  they  will 
exercise  the  ^ame  care  in  the  purchase  of  another,  as  was  shown  in 
buying  Charlotte." 

"  Charlotte   is   free,   my   dear   Grace  ;  were  you   not  aware  of 

that  ?  " 

At  the  same  time  he  threw  his  arm  about  her,  and  drew  her  to 
his  side.     Continuing,  he  said, — 

"I  think  no  trouble  or  expense  too  great  for  my  proud»  lovely 
wife.  I  ordered  a  seamstress  of  a  pleasant,  tractable  nature,  that 
my  pet  should  not  have  her  delicate  nervous  organization  ruffled. 
Vexation  would  spoil  your  charming  beauty,  my  darling,  therefore 
she  is  a /(^zV/ servant.     You  were  ignorant  of  that  fact  ?' 

She  looked  fondly  in  his  face,  with  a  happy  smile  of  satisfaction 
at  this  proof    of  her  husband's  admiration,  and  replied, — 

"  Of  course,  Ralph,  I  did  not  dream  of  it.  You  know  I  never 
hold  conversation  with  slaves  or  free.  Charlotte  is  silent  and  at- 
tentive ;  so  that  I  have  never  had  occasion  to  use  my  rawhide 
or  slipper  ;  neither  have  I  yet  seen  the  necessity  of  sending  her  to 
the  work-house  for  punishment.  Her  tasks  have  always  been  done 
well ;  and  more  than  her    tasks,  daily  j  so   I  gave  the  matter  no 

thought." 

"Then,  let  no  thought  of  her  trouble  your  gentle  heart  hereafter, 
unless  she  prove  refractory ;  then,  sweet  wife,  she  shall  feel  my 
authority ! " 

He  raised  her  jeweled  hand  to  his  lips,  imprinting  kisses  upon  it. 


6oo  WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 


tt 


Ah,  Ralph !  "  replied  Grace,  "  you  were  ever  so  knightly  in 
your  devotion  to  me.  Those  diamonds/^/*?  in  the  light  of  your  re- 
splendent love." 

"  Nay,  sweet  one,  thou  drawest  me  with  cords,  and  I  can  but 
run  after  thee !  Even  now,  I  am  loth  to  part  with  thee,  when  the 
gallop  awaits,  that  brings  invigorakng  health  to  the  wan  cheek  of 
my  incomparable  Grace,  when  thy  pony  calls  thee  at  the  gate." 

"  But,  Ralph,  Doctor  Paisley,  the  dear,  good,  old  physician,  bids 
me  go  ;  and  he  has  prescribed  the  hour.  Look  there,  at  the  clock  j 
this  is  the  very  time.     Adieu,  7no?i  chereP^ 

He  accompanied  her  to  the  parlor  door,  his  arm  still  about  her. 
While  ascending  to  the  dressing-room,  she  heard  his, — 

'•^  Au  revoir,  ma  belle —  I  shall  write  letters  in  your  absence." 

March  was  directed  to  follow  his  mistress. 

Colonel  Haywood  betook  himself  to  the  library,  and  under  pre- 
tence of  writing,  gave  orders  that  he  should  not  be  disturbed.  On 
his  way  he  bade  Charlotte  meet  him  there.  A  few  moments  suf- 
ficed for  the  preparation  she  was  expected  to  make  on  a  summons 
to  her  master.  She  glided  within  the  library  door,  and  drew  from 
her  head  the  loosely  tied  turban.  The  wealth  of  her  jetty  hair 
fell  about  her  shoulders  in  masses  of  curls,  out  of  which  shone 
from  her  small  ears  pendants  as  fine  and  rich  as  those  of  her  mis- 
tress. 

"Treat  that  turban  tenderly!"  he  said  with  irony;  "there  is 
virtue  in  it.  Cast  off  the  coarse  disguise,  and  approach,  my  Star 
of  the  Orient !     There  is  news  !  another  phase  to  affairs.  ' 

She  hastily  laid  aside  her  calico  wrapper  and  stepped  forth,  like 
Cinderilla,  from  the  dress  of  a  homely-clad  slave,  in  the  garniture 
of  silk  and  soft  lace  —  the  one  admired  woman  of  her  haughty  and 
defiant  master. 

"  Elegante,  ma  belle  princess  I  Come,  let  us  promenade.  Without 
music  there  can  be  no  waltzing ;  that  would  suit  me  better.  In 
lieu  of  that,  the  promenade." 

He  drew  her  brown  arm  within  his,  and  thus  they  swept  slowly 
over  the  rich  carpet,  her  eyes  seeking  its  velvet  flowers,  and  his 
scanning  her  stately  beauty  with  a  softened  expression  of  idolatry 
that  none  but  herself  ever  witnessed. 

"  We  have  but   a  short  half  hour  j  lift  those  lashes,  and  listen. 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  6oi 

Grace  is  well  pleased  with  your  service,  and,  to-day,  has  proposed 
to  elevate  you  to  the  office  of  lady's-maid.  She  praises  your  taste 
and  demeanor.  So  far,  so  good.  Become  her  maid,  and  maintain 
the  quiet  submissiom  to  her  will,  so  far  successful.  Grace  has  the 
indomitable  Southern  fire  in  her  make  up,  and  she  will  banish  you 
in  a  twinkling,  if  roused.  If  that  happen,  Charlotte,  listen,  if  that 
happen,  I  cannot  interfere.  Therefore,  I  have  told  her  that  you 
are  free ;  that  I  hire  you  for  wages,  in  order  that,  if  she  take  a 
dislike,  you  can  retire  to  your  apartments  in  Water  Street,  as  before 
you  came  into  her  service. 

"You  are  mine,  Charlotte.  I  hold  the  deed  of  you.  To  Grace, 
you  are  free.  With  this  understanding,  you  can  travel  where  she 
would  not  consent  to  take  a  slave.  She  is  sacredly  observant  of 
the  laws  of  our  State  ;  she  classes  them  with  the  Ten  Command- 
ments and  the  '  Sermon  on  the  Mount.'  During  our  seasons  in 
Charleston,  when  you  wish  to  occupy  your  house,  and  take  a  vaca- 
tion from  service,  you  can  do  so,  without  offence.  You  can  retain 
her  favor  by  going  to  the  house  to  attend  to  her  toilet  on  special 
occasions.  In  your  retreat,  I  shall  join  you  at  my  pleasure,  without 
the  forced  restraint  necessary  under  Grace's  surveillance.  Now, 
brown  dove,  what  have  you  to  say  ?  Speak  !  I  have  not  yet  heard 
the  mellow  music  of  your  voice.  Soon,  I  shall  have  to  thrust  you 
from  me,  and  take  back  again  the  old,  icy  inflexibility  towards  you. 

"  Mon  Dieic !  if  King  Solomon  were  here  now,  he  would  strive 
to  buy  you  from  me  with  his  royal  treasures !  to  make  you  queen 
of  his  thousand  wives !  Jupiter  Tonens !  we  would  inaugurate  a 
duel  on  the  spot !  St.  George  !  I'd  lay  Solomon's  crowned  head 
low,  though  he  should  offer  to  divide  his  throne  ! 

"  Tell  me  —  tell  me  —  tell  me  dearest, 
What  is  in  thy  dark  eyes'  play  .'' 
Is  it  fear,  or  love's  rejoicing, 

Dancing  in  their  depths,  to-day  ? 

Golden  —  golden  —  golden  moments 

Pass  in  silence  —  waste  away. 
Thoughts  upon  thy  red  lips  quiver, 

Speak  !  brown  dove  !  what  wilt  thou  say  "i  " 

Round  the  room  he  whirled  Charlotte,  to  the  rythm  of  his  own 
improvisation. 


6o2  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

"  Only  this  !  "  she  said.  "  My  heart  repeats  the  lesson  you  have 
taught  me,  here.  I  shall  endeavor  to  satisfy  the  mistress,  for  the 
master's  happiness." 

"  Not  for  your  own,  Charlotte  ? " 

"  Do  you  not  know  how  willing  I  am  to  suffer  all  things  to  be 
near  you  ?  to  hear  your  gentle  voice,  though  gentle  to  others, 
yet  icy  to  me  ?  to  live  on  stolen  glances,  that  your  law  calls  crime  ? 
Do  I  love  you?  Can  you  doubt  my  love,  master,  can  you 
doubt  ?  " 

"  Nonsense,  Charlotte,  the  law  is  a  dead  better  !  The  men  who 
framed  it  knew  the  inevitable  result.  We  men,  and  the  law-makers 
included,  love  whom  we  please.  The  legal  objection  is  only 
2ig2Lmsi  jjiarrying  co\or  t  The  law  cannot  coerce  the  affections  — 
they  are  spontaneous.  And  yet  there  was  a  necessity  for  this  re- 
straint ;  for,  nine  times  out  of  ten,  our  young  men  lose  their  hearts 
among  the  slaves.  They  wold  marry  in  the  eager  passion  of  yo  uth, 
regardless  of  sequences.  A  slave  and  a  wife  cannot  be  the  same  ; 
a  \\'\it  holds  property  under  the  law ;  a  slave  cannot  hold  proper- 
ty, for  a  slave  />  property  itself,  and  liable  to  be  sold.  If  Southern 
men  should  marry  slaves,  their  children  would  become  slaves,  and 
thus  in  the  next  generation,  this  would  become  a  South  of  slaves, 
with  few  masters." 

She  loosed  herself  from  him  and  stood  apart,  casting  forth  the 
full  splendor  of  her  dark,  questioning  eyes.  The  possibilities  of 
her  condition  dawned  clearly  upon  her  awakened  mind.  Pitiful 
and  helpless  terror  softened  her  proud  beauty,  and  toned  every 
word. 

"  What  am  I,  but  a  slave  to  be  sold  at  your  bidding  ?  away  from 
your  sight  forever  !  to  have  every  fond  affection  wrenched  asun- 
der !  to  have  my  happiness  torn  up  root  and  branch,  and  cast  out 
to  perish.     Oh,  Heavenly  Master !  what  will  become  of  me  ?  " 

Ralph  had  never  before  seen  the  strong  side  of  Charlotte's 
character  —  this  sudden  outburst  startled  him.  With  exceedins: 
tenderness  he  drew  her  back  to  himself,  saying  hastily, — 

"  Hush  !  Charlotte,  for  God's  sake,  hush  !  Away  with  these 
blue-devils  !  You  are  not  a  slave;  you  are  only  mine.  Cursed  be 
the  hand  that  ever  signs  your  bill  of  sale !  " 

"  But  this  is  a  reality,"  she  moaned.    "What  will  become  of  me?" 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  603 

"  Hush,  I  say  !  I  will  take  charge  of  your  future.  Listen,  Char- 
lotte, I  am  not  a  beardless  boy,  choosing  and  tiring  of  an  object 
the  same  day.  My  love  for  you  is  no  callow  yearning  that  cloys 
with  the  possession.  Y  ou  are  the  true  wife  of  my  soul ;  you  are 
mine  by  the  law  of  Nature  which  is  established  by  the  Creator. 
It  has  existed  from  the  creation  of  man,  before  any  human  enact- 
ments. /  hate  to  the  dagger' s  point !  I  love  to  the  last  pulse  of  my  being  ! 
Grace  is  the  wife  of  society  and  the  statute  book.  Believe  me, 
and  be  cheerful.     I  am  as  much  bound  as  you." 

He  looked  at  his  watch,  and  said, — 

"This  sweet  morsel  of  time  is  past.  There!  resume  the 
turban  —  let  us  go    back  to  the   old  mockery.     An  revoir,  ma  bien 


aimee^ 


The  seamstress  was  soon  installed  in  the  capacity  of  dressing- 
maid  ;  and  with  a  persistence  which  Grace's  husband  secretely 
termed  infatuation,  she  granted  Charlotte  every  favor  desired, 
continuing  her  in  service  from  year  to  year  to  the  time  of  the 
present  chapter.  The  masks  about  Mrs.  Haywood  did  not  betray 
their  trusts. 

Thus  was  the  abused  and  innocent  Zoe,  revenged. 

The   irate    Colonel    Haywood   soon   bowed   himself  out  of   the 
morning  circle  of  Southern  ladies ;  and  they  were  again  plunged 
into   lively   gossip   on    the    daily   news   and    occurrences.       Mrs. 
Fairland  continued  the  conversation    on  the  coming   marriage  of 
young  Dentelle. 

"  I  do  not  think  Augustus'  alliance  with  Miss  May  reflects  any 
dishonor  upon  family  lineage.  She  is  an  heiress  to  large  wealth, 
is  exceedingly  attractive ;  she  is  destitute  of  that  angular,  offensive 
brusqueness  which  one  meets  in  intercourse  with  Northern  ladies. 
Indeed,  she  habitually  manifests  the  graceful  and  suave  dignity 
that  distinguishes  our  Southern  daughters." 

"  I  am  most  happy  to  coincide  with  your  opinion,"  replied  Mrs. 
Fenn.  "Besides,  Northern  men  cannot  become  cotton  or  rice 
planters  ;  their  soil  will  not  admit  of  it.  But  the  young  lady's 
father  is  an  extensive  land-holder  in  Indiana,  and  his  political 
affiliations  are  entirely  Southern." 

Mrs.  Haywood  had  a  prejudice,  in  common  with  her  husband, 


604  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE. 

against  Northern  marriages ;  but  in  this  case  she  thought  Augustus 
only  followed  his  father's  precedent,  who  married  a  Philadelphian, 
the  daughter  of  an  old  Slaver's  captain. 

"  There  is  a  reason,  my  dear  Mrs.  Fairland,"  she  said,  "  for  the 
gentle,  engaging  bearing  of  Mr.  Bloome's  daughter.  She  informs 
me  that  she  makes  frequent  journeys  to  Mississipi,  to  pass  part  of 
the  winter  months  in  the  family  of  a  Mrs.  Silton,  who,  she  says,  ii 
a  Southern  lady  of  rare  refinement.  Through  Mrs.  Silton  she  has 
received  introductions  to  a  large  circle  of  high-bred  Mississpi 
families.  jNIr.  Silton  is  Ohio  born,  and  a  relative  of  Mr.  Bloome. 
The  Silton  family  entertain  Southern  views.  You  see,  ladies,  that 
whatever  of  unpolished  rudeness,  whatever  of  inelegance  may 
have  been  necessarily  attached  to  May  Bloom's  Northern  birth, 
it  has  been  eflaced  by  contact  with  the  courtesies  and  amenities  of 
Southern  society." 

"  A  satisfactory  explanation,  Mrs.  Haywood,"  replied  several 
voices. 

*'  My  dear  Mrs.  Haywood,  have  you  inspected  Miss  May's  bridal 
trousseau  ?  I  had  that  pleasure  yesterday,"  said  Mrs.  Fairland. 
"It  arrived  from  Paris  only  three  days  since." 

"  Under  whose  selection  ?  "  inquired  Mrs.  Archibald,  from  St. 
Louis. 

"  It  was  selected  by  a  lady  whose  acquaintance  Miss  May 
formed  in  Washington  —  Madame  Lambelle,  from  New  York. 
She  is  traveling  in  Europe  at  present.  May  corresponds  with  her. 
She  is  a  lady  of  elegance,  highly  accomplished,  speaks  Italian 
quite  better  than  English." 

"  Madame  Lambelle,  did  I  hear  aright  ?  speaks  Italian  —  and 
from  New  York  ?  It  must  be  the  same.  She  was  in  St.  Louis, 
some  time  since  —  brought  letters  of  introduction  to  some  of  our 
best  families.  Her  husband  went  out  to  Texas.  He  contem- 
plated a  removal  there ;  went  to  look  up  claims,  and  learn  the 
prices  of  slaves  in  New  Orleans,  preparatory  to  purchasing  for  a 
plantation.  It  must  be  the  same.  Without  effort,  all  hearts  were 
laid  at  her  feet.  A  few  South  Carolina  gentlemen  visited  St. 
Louis  at  that  time.  They  met  Madame  Lambelle  at  our  house. 
They  must  be  your  acquaintances,  ladies.  There  was  Rev.  Fred 
Warham,  a  young   man  of  chivalric  carriage,  gentle  and  courtly 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  605 

as  a  knight  of  old.  On  the  evening  mentioned,  he  attached  him- 
self to  Madame  Lambelle.  He  appeared  fascinated  by  her  singu- 
lar beauty,  and  did  not  leave  her  side  the  whole  evening.  Indeed, 
on  other  occasions,  he  was  irresistibly  drawn  to  her,  yet  it  is  not 
strange,  for  her  memory  remains  to  this  day  to  her  admirers,  like 
a  beautiful  vision.  Do  inform  me,  Mrs.  Haywood,  if  he  is  mar- 
ried?" inquired  Mrs.  Archibald. 

"He  is  not  married,  yet;  he  is  a  gallant  attendant  upon  our  ladies. 
I  know  of  more  than  one  who  would  consider  their  happiness  in- 
sured in  his  keeping.  He  seems  to  ward  off  Cupid's  attacks  with 
easy  nonchalance,  and  lead  his  bachelor  life  with  great  relish.  He 
is  in  Europe,  at  present." 

"  \h. !  he  is  recreant  to  the  demands  of  the  hour.  He  should 
have  been  here,  this  winter,  standing  guard  over  this  Fugitive  Slave 
Bill !  "  ejaculated  Mrs  Fenn. 

"He  declares  with  amusing  humor,"  remarked  Mrs.  Fairland, 
smiling  at  the  recollection,  "that  he  has  no  need  of  the  Act,  that 
he  never  loses  his  slaves  by  escape  —  that  he  cannot  drive  them  away. 
I  suspect  the  Rev.  Fred,  as  we  call  him,  is  too  lenient  —  gives  them 
large  liberties  ;  and  writes  as  many  passes  as  Major  Measures.  It 
would  be  agreeable,  as  well  as  of  pecuniary  advantage,  if  other 
masters  could  bear  a  similar  testimony,"  said  Mrs.  Fairland,  lugub- 
riously. "  We  lose  slaves  every  year  by  escape.  Mr.  Fairland  has 
six  plantations ;  the  aggregate  loss  from  all  makes  quite  a  hegira." 

"True"  said  Mrs.  Fenn  with  sympathy;  "the  ignorant  things 
escape  from  Alabama  ;  even  it  is  quite  astonishing  how  they  make 
their  way  through  so  many  Slave  States  without  detection.  I  really 
think  our  negroes  have  the  nature  of  wild  beasts,  for  they  evince 
their  cunning  in  eluding  pursuit.  But,  Mrs.  Fairland,  these  escapes 
may  be  the  fault  of  your  overseers." 

"  Mr.  Fairland  has  expressed  that  idea.  We  had  an  overseer  some 
years  ago  from  the  North,  named  Bill  Steele  ;  he  was  unusually 
rash  and  severe.  Under  him  our  loss  in  fugitives  was  about  eight 
thousand  dollars  ;  however,  he  paid  the  penalty  of  his  crimes.  He 
was  found  dead  in  a  rice-ditch  ;  we  found  he  came  to  his  death  by 
the  hand  of  one  of  our  slaves.  Colonel  Fairland  took  no  other  notice 
of  the  affair,  for  he  said  Steele  had  his  deserts.  He  hi^mself  di- 
rectly defrauded  us  of  the  price  and  increase  of  a  valuable  slave 


6o6  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

child,  while  we  were  traveling.  Mauma  Prue  whispered  it  to  me 
afterwards." 

"  How  did  he  accomplish  that  robbery?  not  by  the  daring  act  of 
sale  on  your  own  territory?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Fenn,  in  startled  inter- 
rogation. 

At  that  moment  the  door  was  thrown  open  by  a  servant,  and  Mrs. 
Dentelle,  accompanied  by  her  prospective  daughter,  May  Bloome, 
entered.  After  an  enthusiastic  reception  by  the  ladies,  and  many 
compliments  to  Miss  May  on  her  fine  appearance,  and  rosy  health, 
Mrs.  Fenn  explained  that  they  were  repeating  their  old  subject  of 
grievances  in  loss  of  slave  property ;  saying  Mrs.  Fairland  was 
about  to  present  a  new  phase  of  our  wrongs  from  a  Northern 
source. 

"  I  beg  the  privilege  of  her  continuance.  I  am  sure  it  will  be 
interesting  to  all,  as  an  incentive  to  greater  watchfulness  over  our 
overseers,  who,  under  the  guise  of  shepherds,  steal  the  increase  of 
the  flock.'- 

"  Most  assuredly,  my  interest  should  equal  yours,"  replied  Mrs. 
Dentelle,  obligingly.  "  This  constant  loss  of  slave  property  de- 
mands all  the  light  thrown  upon  it  possible.  Proceed,  Mrs.  Fairland. 
My  dear  May  is  soon  to  be  initiated  into  the  vexations  of  holding 
slaves,  and  she  will  listen  eagerly  to  what  must  inevitably  pertain 
to  her  future."  A  becoming  blush  heightened  her  attractions, 
while  she  modestly  termed  herself  a  most  appreciative  listener. 
Mrs.  Fairland  proceeded. 

"To  make  myself  understood,  I  must  repeat  that  I  was  about 
to  explain  one  of  our  losses  by  a  Northern  overseer,  named  Bill 
Steele.  You  understand,  ladies  ;  and  Miss  May  will  learn  that  a 
slave  girl  nearly  white,  or  one  that  inexperienced  eyes  would  call 
white,  brings  a  higher  price  in  market  than  any  oiher  !  The  reason 
of  this  we  will  not  discuss ;  but  the  fact  is  patent.  Mr.  Fairland 
bought  a  slave  girl  in  Charleston,  just  before  we  left  for  Europe. 
She  called  herself  Isabel,  a  queenly  name  you  will  say ;  and  truly, 
if  I  had  bought  '  Isabelle  '  of  Spain  to  wait  upon  me,  I  could  not 
have  had  a  more  worthless  object ;  stupid  and  absent,  feeble  and 
dilatory  as  she  proved,  I  drove  her  from  my  sight. 

"  In  due  time  we  returned  from  a  few  years'  absence.  Isabel  was 
dead.     After  a  time,  that  most  obsequious  of  overseers,  Steele,  was 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  607 

killed  by  one  of  our  negroes,  and  his  wife  returned  North.  Then 
it  came  out  that  he  took  Isabel  from  the  field,  for  his  cook  ;  that 
Isabel  had  a  child,  very  fair,  with  blue  eyes  and  flaxen  hair.  She 
was  bright  and  salable.  Mauma  Prue  saw  him  ride  off  with  her  in 
his  arms  one  rainy  night.  The  next  day  he  made  a  hypocrite-calado 
about  her  being  stolen  by  the  traders  who  were  camped  out  a  few 
miles  in  the  forest.  Mauma  Prue  kept  her  secret  while  he  lived. 
He  sold  that  fair  child  —  she  was  a  slave,  born  in  the  condition 
of  her  mother,  and  now  she  would  have  been  grown.  She  would 
have  brought  a  generous  price  —  thousands  of  dollars  !" 

"  That  was  an  exact  robbery  of  those  same  thousands  !  "  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Fenn  ;  "  for  you  know,  ladies,  how  we  personally  tend 
the  young  slaves,  that  they  may  attain  their  highest  value,  by  years 
of  careful  raising.  Why,  I  have  taken  many  a  little  pickaninny 
into  my  own  room,  and  watched  it  lying  in  a  chair  by  my  bedside 
at  night,  and  thereby  saved  and  raised  a  valuable  slave." 

"  We  have  all  done  the  same,"  said  Mrs.  Fairland,  "  to  the  loss  of 
our  own  sleep  and  comfort ;  for  in  breeding  and  raising  slaves 
largely  lies  the  profit  of  this  domestic  institution.  This  fair  child 
is  a  dead  loss.  Since  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  Mr.  Fairland  has  re- 
claimed several,  but  she  cannot  be  described.  Asre  has  blotted  out 
her  identity.     We  have  never  employed  a  Northern   overseer  since. 

"  Colonel  Haywood  declares  he  will  not  stand  for  identity  !  "  said 
Grace,  scornfully  "  He  will  claim  as  many  slaves  from  the  North 
as  he  has  lost,  at  all  cost.  He  says  their  claims  to  freedom  are  of 
no  avail  with  him  ;  and  if  they  are  free,  they  ought  to  be  etislaved!  so 
no  obstacle  shall  stand  between  him  and  his  rights.  If  he  had  lost 
that  fair  child,  he  would  have  brought  back  to  Vaucluse  a  white  girl 
in  her  stead." 

"There  are  any  number  of  Northern  marshals  and  their  agents, 
who  will  secure  the  complement  of  slaves  demanded,  without  ex- 
pense to  the  claimants.  The  United  States  is  a  good  paymaster; 
the  more  difficult  the  pursuit  and  transfer,  the  larger  the  bill  for  the 
pockets  of  the  hunters,"  said  Mrs.  Dentelle.  "  My  husband  says 
the  Fugitfve  Slave  Compromise  is  the  grandest  one  yet !  " 

"One  more  is  needed  yet,"  suggested  Mrs.  Archibald,  of  St. 
Louis.  Congress  should  reduce  the  six  States  of  that  detestable 
New  England,  into  one.     That  rocky  nest  of  hissing  abolitionists 


6o8  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

would  then  have  but  two  senators,  quite  sufficient  for  the  peace  and 
prosperity  of  our  institutions." 

"  Then  with  Texas  sub-divided  by  Con^^ress  into  a  progeny  of 
slave-holding  States,  Calhoun's  '  balance  of  power '  would  be  real- 
ized," said  Grace. 

"  Ah  !  Miss  May  looks  wearied,"  remarked  Mrs.  Fairland.  "  Let 
us  change  the  subject,  ladies,  for  her  young  sake." 

May  made  haste  to  reply.  "  I  assure  you,  ladies,  I  am  quite  in- 
terested. The  condensation  of  the  New  England  States,  so  very 
small  in  area,  is  not  a  novel  subject  to  me.  I  have  heard  papa  and 
Mr.  Jefferson  Davis  discuss  their  insignificance  of  territory,  and 
the  Congressional  authority  to  limit  them  to  one  State  ;  I  know 
very  well  the  dangerous  sentiment  of  that  section.  I  am  quite  ac- 
quainted with  Southern  causes  of  anxiety." 

"  We  are  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Mrs.  Fenn,  encouragingly.  "  Our 
difficulties  will  soon  tax  your  knowledge  and  ingenuity.  The  mere 
governing  of  the  slaves,  the  wild,  ignorant  creatures,  at  home,  makes 
a  wearisome  life  for  any  mistress  ;  don't  you  think  so,  Mrs.  Arch- 
bald  .? " 

"  It  is  a  general  cause  of  complaint,"  replied  the  lady  addressed  ; 
"  and  we  in  St.  Louis  often  declare  we  should  be  better  off  without 
slaves.  I  envied  Madame  Lambelle  her  faithful,  and  devoted  Cos- 
setina.  Why,  the  real  affection  she  evinced  for  her  mistress,  was 
touching." 

''  I  have  a  free  servant,  also,"  said  Grace  ;  "  my  dressing-maid, 
Charlotte ;  she  is  devoted  to  me,  and  her  taste  is  superb.  Ralph 
assured  me  that  no  sullen  slave  shall  try  my  nerves  ;  and  while  I 
think  of  it  dear  Miss  May,  will  you  accept  of  Charlotte's  services 
at  your  marriage  toilet?  I  doubt  if  her  equal  is  in  Washington. 
She  can  dress  me  early,  and  repair  directly  to  your  dressing-room. 

Mrs.  Dentelle  accepted  the  considv^rate  offer  for  her  charge,  and 
the  party  fell  to  congratulating  the  lovely  girl  on  the  happy  consum- 
mation of  her  tenderest  wishes,  and  on  the  arrival  of  the  t\eg:int trous- 
seau from  Paris.  Mrs.  Fairland,  who  alone  had  inspected  them,  was 
profuse  in  praises  of  the  laces,  satms,  the  materials  of  the  various 
suits  to  be  worn  on  occasions  after  the  ceremony.  She  especially 
dwelt  upon  the  pure  brilliancy  of  the  diamonds,  and  the  delicate 
choice  of  the  pearls. 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  609 

"The  set  of  turquoise,"  suggested  Miss  Bloome,  "was  a  gift  from 
Madame  Lambelle." 

"  They  are  very  fine,"  said  Mrs.  Fairland  ;  "  madame  has  exquis- 
ite taste.  Will  her  husband  remain  with  your  family  till  after  your 
marriage  ? " 

"He  will." 

"Then  I  must  pay  my  respects  to  him,  and  inquire  for  his 
lovely  wife,"  said  Mrs.  Archibald. 

"'  My  dear  May,  I  must  beg  permission  to  look  in  upon  your 
charming  Paris  importation,"  said  Grace,  holding  her  parting  hand 
affectionately. 

After  dining  at  Mr.  Dentelle's,  and  receiving  the  kindest  atten- 
tions from  host  and  guest,  and  after  bidding  her  lover  a  fond  good 
night  in  the  gaily  lighted  parlors  of  her  father's  mansion,  May 
fouud  herself  sitting  alone  with  her  parents,  for  a  confidential  tete- 
a-tete^  on  coming  events. 

"How  has  papa's  pet  enjoyed  the  day?"  enquired  Mr.  Bloome. 

"Superlatively,  papa;  every  possible  attention  has  been  be- 
stowed !  " 

The  affiancee  of  a  wealthy  Southerner,  my  child,  has  nothing  be- 
fore her  but  pleasures,  and  fetes.  I  could  wish  no  more  honored 
prospect  for  you,  my  daughter !  "  exclaimed  her  mother,  a  com- 
placent joy  raying  her  features.  "  You  will  walk  on  velvet  paths, 
over  roses  and  lillies.  Dear  May,  I  am  too  proud  of  this  alliance. 
Augustus  daily  manifests  a  deeper  devotion  to  you." 

"But  mamma,  I  see  clouds  on  my  horizon,  although  I  love  Augus- 
tus dearly." 

"  What  clouds  ?  pray." 

"We  called  to-day  at  Mrs.  Haywood's,  and  met  a  party  of  morning 
callers  there  ;  Southern  ladies  of  course.  The  burden  of  conver- 
sation was  the  stupidity  and  indifference  of  slaves  ;  their  escape 
and  recovery  by  the  Fugitive  Slave  Act  —  the  robbery  by  overseers  ; 
and  I  don't  know  what  other  trials  of  the  system.  It  seems  to  me 
that  the  South  is  in  a  perpetual,  studied  antagonism  and  quarrel 
with  the  North.  I  don't  like  it,  papa  —  that  never-ending  collision 
and  confusion  with  the  two  sections !  I  want  to  be  free  like  the 
caroling  birds  —  and  happy  like  them,  too  !  " 

"  Never  mind,  pet  j  Augustus  will  do  the  valiant  part  —  he  will 


6lO  WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

shield  his  bride  from  too  much  agitation.  He  is  a  host  in  himself ; 
and  outside  of  your  boudoir  and  parlors,  he  will  carry  on  the  war- 
fare. I  predict  that  in  time  not  far  distant,  the  South  will  secede 
from  this  incompatible  Union.  She  will  then  carry  all  before  her 
by  force  of  arms ;  set  up  an  independent  government ;  and  who 
knows  but  my  pet,  here,  will  be  queen  of  the  ascendant  power.** 
sitting  on  a  throne,  dispensing  her  frowns  and  smiles  upon  her 
Southern  subjects.     Hey  ?  my  poor  worried  pet !  " 

His  boisterous,  rolicking  laugh  was  contagious,  and  went  round 
the  trio,  exhilarating  as  the  champagne  that  nightly  bubbled  at 
his  table. 

"  I  think,  papa,  instead  of  being  occupied  with  the  august  duties 
of  a  throne,  I  shall  be  mostly  engaged  in  nursing  puny  black  babies 
in  my  boudoir,  feeding  them  pap,  and  singing  money  investing  lul- 
labys,  according  to  the  details  of  the  morning  call." 

"  Horrid  !  May,"  exclaimed  her  mother.  "  Surely  your  nerves 
are  jangled  into  discord  by  too  much  excitement." 

"  By  no  means,  mamma  ;  and  if  I  follow  Mrs.  Dentelle's  example 
,of  to-day,  I  shall  have  a  raw-hide  within  reach,  and  learn  to  wield 
its  stinging  lash,  and  make  my  own  blood  run  cold,  if  no  one's  else  ; 
and  I  might  as  well  begin  practice  with  one  of  those  Paris  slippers, 
for  slapping  ears  and  cheeks  with  a  slipper  sole  is  another  impend- 
ing crisis." 

" Three  cheers  for  papa's  little  slaveholder!"  cried  her  father. 
"  He'll  buy  her  the  handsomest  rawhide  in  Savannah,  gold  mounted, 
with  a  velvet  handle,  and  a  pair  of  Cinderilla  slippers  expressly  for 
her  new  dignities." 

"  No  !  no  !  papa !  Don't  ridicule  tired  May's  real  troubles. 
There  will  be  no  need  of  rawhides,  or  slippers,  under  her  gentle 
rule.  Mrs.  Sillton  of  Mississippi,  never  frightened  her  so  in  the 
whole  winters  she  passed  with  her  ;  and  she  is  a  Southerner.  Ban- 
ish those  ugly  spectres,  child!  Mr.  Bloome,  bring  out  the  harp  — 
remove  the  cover  ;  May's  fingers  will  extract  from  its  strings  the 
balm  that  will  heal  herself." 

He  rose,  eager  to  do  anything  to  please  his  idol ;  but  would  have 
his  say.  "Now,  if  I  held  those  stupid  negroes,  I  should  stir  them 
up  with  a  gusto !  I  should  delight  in  any  whip,  slipper,  or  boot  that 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  6ll 

would  quicken  their  time,  or  comprehension  !  "  He  quietly  pulled 
the  bell,  and  proceeded  to  the  harp. 

*'  May,  who  were  the  dinner  guests  at  Mr.  Dentelle's  ? "  ques- 
tioned the  mother. 

"  Their  usual  set.  The  Misses  JFairland  have  arrived — they  were 
there.  Mrs.  Fairland  was  absent.  Mr.  Lambelle  was  an  honored 
guest.  And  what  do  you  think,  mamma  !  the  Misses  Fairland  in- 
sist on  being  two  of  my  bridsmaids  —  one  of  them  to  stand  with 
Mr.  Lambelle,  and  the  other  with  a  friend  of  Augustus,  from  Sa- 
vannah." 

"I  think  they  are  too passees  for  your  bridesmaids  !" 

"Well,  it  is  their  decree,  and  who  shall  dare  to  differ,  mamma? 
Ugh !  they  are  so  cold  and  haughty !  it  makes  me  shiver.  Their 
affability  seems  to  be  condescension,  yet  they  lavish  much  distinc- 
tion upon  me.  They  are  coming  to-morrow  with  others,  to  look  at 
my  wedding  dress,  diamonds,  etc." 

"  There's  the  harp  waiting  for  fairy  fingers,"  said  her  father,  as 
he  bowed  deeply  before  her,  and  presented  his  arm.  Ah !  here 
comes  the  servant  with  wine.  Drink,  May,  I  ordered  it  for  you  ;  it 
will  touch  those  clouds  in  your  horizon  with  gold." 

"  No,  papa,  I  beg  pardon,  but  the  sight  of  wine  disgusts  me ; 
the  tables  flowed  with  wine  at  the  dinner,  and  undermined  several 
judgments.     I  will  tune  the  harp." 

"  Even  so  it  shall  be,"  said  the  indulgent  father.  "  Take  the 
wine  away,  boy." 

Sweet  and  low,  like  the  sighing  of  summer  winds,  floated  away 
the  first  chords  from  May's  light  touch,  casting  out  by  their  sure 
sorcery  the  unpleasant  emotions  which  dropped  around  her  like 
mists  from  the  day's  social  sky.  More  crisp  and  jubilant  rang  the 
voice  of  the  harp.  A  silver  shower  of  notes  filled  the  room  and 
fairly  caused  the  fragrant  flowers  to  tremble  beneath  its  thrill. 
Fear  and  discontent  fled  from  the  fair  and  noble  lineaments. 
The  radiance  of  girlhood's  untrammeled  hopes  filled  the  bright 
room,  and  lifted  its  occupants  above  the  political  and  social  strife 
that  haunted  and  defiled  the  public  halls  and  private  homes  of  the 
city.  Looks  of  admiration  were  exchanged  by  the  parents.  The 
door  was  set  ajar  by  unseen  hands  from  the  hall,  where  a  crowd  of 
servants  had  crept  to  listen.     Like  a  goddess  while  she  swept  the 


6 12  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

Strings  of  the  gilded  instrument,  she  played  upon  the  hearts  that 
listened.  The  dark  faces  of  the  bond-men  and  bond-women  in  the 
hall  grew  angelic ;  they  rose  above  chains  and  servitude,  and  to 
their  untutored  minds  Heaven  opened. 

May  felt  her  father's  arm  about  her,  and  heard  him  saying, — 

"  Our  pet  must  rest.  Sleep  will  come  after  the  ecstasy  of  harp 
and  voice.     Let  me  present  you  before  the  curtain." 

He  opened  the  door  of  the  hall.  Out  from  the  group  of  servants 
stepped  the  gray  old  butler,  bowing  respectfully,  while  all  the 
other  dark  faces  beamed  with  adoring  smiles.  With  great  hu- 
mility, the  butler  said, — 

"  Will  de  beautiful  young  lady  'low  me  to  'spress  our  thanks 
for  this  gran'  piece  of  de  New  Jerusalem  let  down  dis  ebening." 

"  De  Lord  bless  de  fine  young  missis  !  "  echoed  old  Chloe,  the 
cook. 

When  the  door  closed  upon  the  happy  company,  I\Irs.  Bloome 
said  to  May,  encouragingly. — 

"  Do  you  not  see,  my  daughter,  that  love  instead  of  severity  will 
rule  your  servants  ?  Your  music  and  your  own  angelic  sweetness 
will  supersede  the  rawhide  and  the  slipper.  Your  slaves  will 
adore  you.  Their  swift  feet  will  anticipate  your  wishes.  You  will 
be  to  them  a  goddess,  moving  amongst  them  in  a  halo  of  celestial 
light." 

Augustus  Den  telle  led  his  Northern  bride  to  the  altar,  amid  the 
universal  admiration  of  his  Southern  friends. 

"  What  a  fine  couple  ! " 

"  A  magnificient  pair  !  " 

"A  royal  match!  " 

*'  A  queenly  bride  !  "   dropped  from  the  haughty  lips  about  them. 

Mr.  Lambelle  officiated  as  groomsman,  with  Mr.  Fairland's 
daughter  as  bridesmaid  —  and  at  the  departure  of  the  bridal  party 
for  Savannah,  he  even  yielded  to  the  solicitations  of  May  and 
Augustus  to  accompany  them  there  to  participate  in  the  gay  festi- 
vities awaiting. 

Miss  Fairland  also  left  Washington  for  a  week  in  Savannah,  and 
returned  under  Mr.  Lambelle's  escort. 

Balls,  receptions,  pleasure  trips  -and  invitations  filled  the  happy 
week. 


# 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  613 

"  If  Zaffiri  were  only  here,"  said  the  radiant  May  Dentelle,  "  our 
joy  would  be  complete !  She  shall  make  amends  by  passing 
some  of  those  cold  Northern  winters  in  this  delicious  climate  of 
Savannah." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

WHEN  Mr.  Lambelle,  accompanied  by  Miss  Fairland,  ar- 
rived in  Washington  from  Savannah,  he  found  Colonel 
Haywood's  family  in  a  state  of  angry  ferment.  The  colonel's  valu- 
able slave,  "  March,"  had  escaped  in  the  face  of  the  Fugitive  Slave 
Act.  The  unwelcome  news  had  just  reached  him  from  Charleston, 
although  March  took  flight  immediately  after  the  family  left  for 
Washington. 

"  Lambelle,"  said  the  master,  "  it  is  damned  aggravating,"  lifting 
up  his  tall  figure  nervously  from  his  seat,  and  walking  the  floor 
with  his  head  thrown  up,  and  his  long  hair  falling  about  his  shoul- 
ders. "  I  left  the  black  devil  in  South  Carolina,  and  deprived  my- 
self of  his  services  here,  because  Washington  is  a  dangerous  place 
to  bring  slaves.  I  branded  him,  moreover,  some  years  ago,  with 
my  own  hand !  With  a  red-hot  iron  I  put  my  cattle-mark  upon 
him  !  That  mark  will  toll  him  back  to  me.  'Colonel  R.  H.'  is 
the  brand  on  his  right  arm.  Ripping  up  his  sleeve,  alone,  will  set- 
tle the  matter  and  hand  him  back  to  me.  Lambelle,  you  are  going 
to  New  Yorkj  you  are  no  Northern,  sneaking,  poltroon,  like  that 
upstart,  Sumner,  and  others  of  his  kith.  Look  after  the  runaway; 
you  are  all  right  on  the  Constitution.  Are  you  acquainted  with  the 
marshalls  and  commissioners  in  New  York  ? " 

"Familiarly  acquainted,  colonel,"  replied  Mr.  Lambelle,  in  an 
off-hand  style.  "  I  shall  be  most  happy  to  do  the  favor,  sir.  I 
will  step  into  the  commissioner's  office  and  look  after  this  run- 
away's apprehension  ;  if  found,  a  fact  of  which  I  have  no  doubt, 
will  he  be  returned  to  you  at  Washington  or  to  Charleston .'' " 

"  At  Washington,"  answered  Haywood.  "  I'll  give  him  a  taste 
of  chains  and  Georgetown  jail  —  a  thing  out  of  his  experience. 
He  has  been  treated  in  the  kindest  manner,  sir,  /i^e  oiie  of  7ny  owa 


6 14  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE. 

favtily  !  His  ingratitude  enrages  me.  I  shall  offer  two  thousand, 
five  hundred  dollars  reward,  sir.  He  shall  come  back  into  his 
proper  condition  !  "  Out  from  its  sheath  flashed  the  petted  bowie- 
knife  in  the  face  of  his  caller.  "There!"  he  cried,  setting  his 
teeth  together.  "I  would  sooner  plunge  that  into  the  rascal,  than 
see  him  escape  me  !  That's  a  fine  blade,  sir  :  it  would  do  its  work 
fairly." 

Mr.  Lambelle  took  it,  read  its  motto,  and  coolly  drew  forth  onc5 
himself,  saying, — 

"They  are  not  equal  in  size,  but  mine  will  obey  a  bloody  errand. 
I  purchased  it  in  Venice." 

A  grim  smile  parted  the  teeth  of  the  colonel,  as  he  examined  the 
weapon. 

"A  good  investment,  said  he.  "  Glad  to  find  your  sentiments 
allied  to  mine.  I  give  you  permission  to  plunge  that  same  steel 
home  to  the  heart  of  that  infernal  March,  if  you  find  him  and  he 
tries  to  slip  from  your  grasp.    Dead  or  alive,  I  will  have  his  body." 

"Can  you  not  give  me  a  description  right  here.?  it  may  save 
time  and  facilitate  his  arrest,"  questioned  Mr.  Lambelle. 

"  True,  sir.  Let  me  see  !  "  running  his  fingers  through  his  hair. 
"  He's  five  feet,  ten  inches  high,  light  mulatto,  wears  heavy  mus- 
tache, no  beard,  straight  as  a  Palmetto,  and  about  forty-five  years 
old,  has  a  grave  and  well-bred  air,  is  well-proportioned  and  muscu- 
lar, is  well  dressed." 

"  What  hair,  sir .?  " 

"Ah!  that  escaped  me;  black,  thick,  and  curling;  voice,  heavy 
and  pleasant." 

Mr.  Lambelle  made  a  note  of  these  items  from  the  master's  lips, 
expressed  deep  interest  in  the  return  of  March,  and,  after  a  turn  of 
conversation,  left  for  other  adieus. 

Mr.  Lambelle  took  the  night  train  for  New  York,  and  arrived  in 
Philadelphia  in  a  snow-storm.  He  stepped  off  the  cars  in  that  city, 
and  took  a  direction  away  from  the  main  thoroughfare.  The 
driving  storm  had  swept  every  vestige  of  humanity  from  his  course  ; 
he  paused ^  before  a  plain,  ordinary  house,  rang' the  bell,  and  was 
welcomed  in  by  a  neat,  smiling  Quakeress,  who  led  the  way  to  the 
plain,  but  inviting  family  room.  Closed  shutters,  curtains,  a  warm, 
ray  carpet,  bright  lights,  and   a  triple  welcome   from   the   others 


or 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  61$ 

present,  met  his  entrance.     The  Quakeress  assisted  in   removing 
and  shaking  his  snowy  garments,  saying,  cheerfully, — 

*' What  brings  thee  here,  in  such  a  bitter  night?" 

"  Duty,  Rachel,"  he  replied.  "  There,  you  see,  is  the  sentinel's 
cloak." 

She  was  hanging  the  long,  full  garment  against  the  wall. 

"  Thou  hast  never  seen  Friend  Claude  wear  any  other,  Rachel," 
said  Benjamin,  the  husband  of  Rachel. 

He  held  the  visitors  hat,  brushed  clear  of  snowflakes,  in  one 
hand,  and  a  pair  of  slippers  in  the  other. 

"Nay,  Benjamin,  I  have  very  little  to  do  with  the  world  and  its 
fashions  ;  I  like  the  sentinel's  cloak  best." 

Benjamin  placed  an  easy-chair  by  the  stove  for  his  friend,  and 
sat  by  him  in  another.  His  calm,  benign  face  turned  towards  his 
friend,  and,  in  caressing  tones,  he  asked, — 

"  Where  hast  thou  been,  friend  Claude,  and  what  is  thy  er- 
rand ? " 

"  I  have  been  to  Washington,  spying  out  the  land,  Friend  Benny.- 
What  do  you  think,  Ruth  and  Rebecca,"  addressing  the  two  daugh- 
ters, "  I  have  played  the  roll  of  groomsman  with  a  Southern 
bridesmaid,  at  the  grand  wedding  of  a  Northern  belle  and  a  South- 
ern fire-eater." 

Both  dropped  th^gray  wool  knitiing  from  their  fingers;  a  smile 
of  curiosity  beamed  from  under  the  borders  of  their  snowy  caps. 

"  Nay,  friend  Claude,  did  they  not  find  thee  out  ?  "  questioned 
Ruth. 

•'  Nay,  nay,  Ruth,"  answered  Benjamin  ;  "he  is  as  gay  an  aristo- 
crat in  the  world,  as  thee  can  meet,  when  he  wishes." 

"  More,  Ruth,"  continued  Mr.  Lambelle.  "  I  went  to  Savannah 
with  the  bridal  party,  and  escorted  back  to  Washington  my  lady 
duchess  of  Fairland,  who  resides,  when  at  home,  at  the  plantation 
of  '  Le  Grand  Palais,'  South  Carolina ;  and,  if  my  heart  had  not 
been  carried  away  to  Italy,  I  think  I  could  have  made  a  conquest." 

"Yea,"  said  Rachel,  "but  those  gay  doings  did  not  bring  thee 
here,  to  a  station  of  the  Underground  Railroad,  on  a  stormy 
night,  friend  Claude." 

"  True,  Rachel,  I  have  better  news  than  the  story  of  a  gay  life 
at  the  Capitol.     I  have  had  confided  to  me  the  flight  of  a  slave 


6l6  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE, 

from  Charleston.  I  have  been  requested  by  his  enraged  master  to 
]ook  him  up,  and  I  am  here  now  to  redeem  my  promise." 

"  Hast  thou  his  description  ? "  kindly  inquired  Benjamin. 

"  I  have." 

He  took  his  note-book  and  read  from  it  the  items  taken  from  his 
master's  lips. 

"  The  same,  Rachel  !  "  said  Benjamin,  passing  his  palm  over  his 
bald  head  and  giving  his  wife  a  satisfied  and  gracious  smile.  "  He 
is  here,  friend  Claude.  We  have  seen  the  brand.  He  arrived, 
three  days  ago." 

*'  What  name  does  he  give  his  master  ?  " 

"Colonel  Haywood,'"'  calmly  answered  Benjamin.  "Come, 
friend  Claude,  go  up  stairs  with  me.  March  is  weary  and  dis- 
heartened ;  he  will  be  glad  to  see  the  light  of  thy  face  and  to  drink 
the  strength  of  thy  words." 

Without  a  light  they  ascended  private  flights  to  the  attic.  In  a 
small  room  with  one  window,  closely  curtained,  well  warmed  by  a 
stove,  and  comfortably  furnished,  sat  the  fugitive ;  a  sudden  fear 
crept  into  his  suffering  eyes,  that  fell  upon  a  stranger. 

"  I  bring  thee  a  friend,"  said  Benjamin.  " '  Let  not  thy  heart  be 
troubled.'     This  is  Claude  Lambelle,  an  Abolitionist  like  us." 

March  had  risen  ;  his  fine  figure,  tasteful  dress,  and  repose  of 
manner  were  pleasing. 

"  March,"  said  Mr.  Lambelle,  taking  his  hand  and  retaining  it, 
"  let  me  immediately  relieve  you  of  anxiety.  I  have  been  in  Wash- 
ington, met  there  your  master,  learned  of  your  flight  from  him.  My 
true  character  is  known  only  to  the  friends  of  the  slave.  I  travel 
among  Southerners  and  receive  their  hospitalities ;  I  affect  to  up- 
hold Southern  views,  that  I  may  see  the  exact  condition  of  the 
country,  learn  the  exact  sentiments  and  desires  of  the  slave-holder, 
and  secretly  report  to  Anti- Slavery  men.  Thus  they  are  sure  of 
their  own  assertions,  and  are  guided  in  their  efforts  to  create  a 
sympathy  for  the  oppressed.  Be  seated,  my  friend,  and  trust  me 
entirely.  I  am  struck,  March,  with  your  resemblance  to  your  mas- 
ter !     Have  you  the  same  blood  ? " 

''We  are  brothers,  sir!  by  one  father,  sir!  May  I  ask  how  he 
regards  my  escape  ?  "  said  March,  respect  modulating  every  word. 

"  He  speaks  like  a  madman.     It  would  be  horrible  for  you  to 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  617 

fall  into  his  power.  He  declares  he  will  drag  you  back,  dead  or 
alive.  I  gave  him  my  word  that  I  would  seek  you  out.  1  have 
come  for  that  purpose,  to  offer  you  an  asylum  in  my  house  in  ]>iew 
York  I  have  a  room  for  fugitives,  more  hidden  than  this.  JNo 
one  could  suspect  me  of  harboring  a  slave,  for  I  am  never  seen  in 
company  with  an  Abolitionist,  nor  do  they  visit  my  house.  No  one 
can  suspect  the  presence  of  a  fugitive  there."  ^ 

"  How  shall  I  get  there,  sir  ?     I  can  have  no  written  pass  here, 

sir  :  "  asked  March  anxiously.  ,  ^   .^       j  • 

Benjamin  replied,  "My  friend,  the  Underground  Railroad  is  a 
safe  means  of  travel.  Its  station  agents,  conductors  and  freight 
agents  are  all  experienced  men.     We  will  plan  for  you  there.  ^ 

"  Benny,"  said  Mr.  Lambelle,  "  in  this  case  efficient  haste  is  re- 
quisite. This  afternoon.  Colonel  Haywood  developed  his  intention 
to  me  of  offering  a  reward  of  twenty-five  hundred  dollars  for  our 
friend,  here.  To-morrow  morning,  through  the  aid  of  the  telegraph 
this  unusual  reward,  together  with  the  description  of  his  person, 
including  the  fatal  brand,  will  be  blazoned  forth  in  the  papers. 
The  eyes  of  our  man-hunters  will  be  quickened  to  sleeplessness, 
and  their  ears  will  grow  keener  than  the  Southern  blood-hounds. 

The  aid  Quaker  roused  ;  his  mild  eye  flashed  with  determination. 
His  palm  passed  repeatedly  over  the  shiny  baldness  of  his  fine- 
shaped  head,  as  if  to  coax  from  it  the  sagacity  and  wisdom  imme- 
diately demanded.  ^  .  ,    c.-n  •      J    i-1      /I^ 

After  some  moments  of  consideration,  he  said,  *^  Friend  Claude, 
if  March  could  go  to  New  York  as  merchandise,  his  master  s  de- 
scription would  avail  nothing."  ,.-D      t,-       „„ 

"Box  him  up,  Benny  !  "  laughed  Mr.  Lambelle.     "  Box  him  up 
and  label  him  !  that's  the  idea !  "  Then  occurred  the  difficulty  ot 
the  box  and  a  place  of  unsuspicious  rendezvous,  and  a  dray-man. 

After  many  rapid,  fruitless  suggestions,  a  thought  struck  Mr. 

Lambelle.  ^  o.  ^^<. 

"  Benny,  you  know  Blank,  the  manufacturer,  on btreer, 

plays  my  role  of  negro  hater.  Southern  views,  etcetera !  I  have 
seen  the  pavement  before  his  manufactory  piled  with  boxes  for 
freic^ht.  Could  we  not  manage  to  box  our  traveler  there,  at  his 
place  of  business,  and  send  him  to  New  York  on  the  three  o  clock 
train  to-nic-hl  ?     Could  Blank  confide  in  his  white  dray-driver  ? 


6l8  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  The  driver  is  not  white,  friend  Claude  ;  he  too,  came  out  of  the 
house  of  bondage.  He  passes  for  white,  which  will  be  in  our 
favor.  Blank  sends  all  his  anti-slavery  messages  by  him.  Will 
March  consent  to  this  mode  of  travel?  " 

"  I  will  consent  to  any  plan  my  friends  devise  ;  I  will  be  boxed 
if  vou  direct  it,"  said  March,  with  some  solicitude  in  his  voice. 

"It  would  be  but  a  few  hours  ride,  and  I  will  take  care  that  you 
are  safely  consigned.  I  have  a  five-dollar  gold  piece  for  the  driver 
of  the  dray ;  I  shall  go  to  New  York  in  the  same  train  with  you, 
and  go  directly  to  the  consignee  and  await  your  arrival." 

In  the  excitement  of  the  conversation  all  were  again  stand- 
ing. Mr.  Lambelle  laid  a  hearty  slap  on  March's  shoulder, 
saying,  "  Take  heart,  my  brave  fellow,  when  you  will  be  emerg- 
ing from  your  box,  within  locked  doors  newspaper  readers 
will  be  rubbing  their  eyes  over  the  first  reading  of  Colonel  Hay- 
wood's advertisement."  Turning  to  the  Quaker  he  said,  "  I  will  go 
to  Blank  directly  and  make  arrangements ;  meantime,  let  that 
handsome  mustache  be  removed  and  the  curling  hair  cropped." 

The  two  descended  in  darkness.  Mr.  Lambelle  donned  his  long 
cloak  and  broad-brim. 

"It's  a  fine  stormy  night,"  said  Rachel,  in  her  silvery  voice  ;  "  the 
world  will  not  care  to  quiz  outside  occurrences." 

"  Favorable,  Rachel,"  he  replied,  drawing  his  hat  closer.  ''  Take 
my  adieus,  good  friends  ;  I  shall  not  return,  for  in  some  way  I  shall 
make  this  plan  a  success.  You  will  find  a  way  for  March's  trans- 
fer to  the  manufactory. 

A  brief  dilemma  respecting  this  transfer,  troubled  the  friends 
after  Mr.  Lambelle's  departure ;  too  much  coming  and  going  of 
men  at  the  quiet  Quaker's  home,  might  excite  suspicion  in  the 
minds  of  their  lynx-eyed  neighbors,  and  March  must  have  a  guide. 

It  was  decided  by  Rachel.  She  said  to  her  daughter  Rebecca. 
"  Thou  canst  guide  ]March  —  thou  art  about  his  height.  Send  him 
a' dress  and  shawl  ;  he  will  only  remove  his  coat.  I  will  lend  my 
bonnet ;  the  Quaker  bonnet  will  conceal  his  face.  Like  two  women, 
do  then  go  out  quietly  at  the  basement  door.  Thou  wilt  be  but  a 
good  Samaritan." 

*'  That  is  right,"  said  her  husband ;  "  thou  dost  show  excellent 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  619 

judgment.     Bring  the  gown  and  shawl  and  bonnet ;  I  will  dress 

March."  .  ,         ■,•       -         u- 

March  soon  descended  with  Benny,  in  complete  disguise  ;  his 
coat  was  tied  in  a  bundle,  which  was  carried  on  his  arm.  Into  it 
Rachel  crowded  a  package  of  seed-cakes  and  a  flask  of  water. 

«  I  cannot  return  alone,  to-night,"  said  Rebecca  ;  "  I  will  go  to 
M^ry  Blank's,  for  the  remainder  of   the  night." 

"  Yea,  thou  canst  do  so,"  replied  her  father. 

«  God  bless  this  house,  and  its  people,  "  said  March,  as  the  two 
women  stepped  forth  in  the  area  and  the  midnight. 

In  due  time  the  boxes  were  packed  on  the  floor  of  the  manufac- 
torv  •  alike  in  size  — alike  in  weight  —  aUke  in  label,  and  alike  in 
strong  binding.  Mr.  Lambelle  had  gone  to  the  depot ;  the  dray  was 
at  the  sidewalk,  and  the  driver  inside.  ,   ,     ,  . 

"Look  here,  driver,"  said  Mr.  Blank  in  a  low  tone,  and  looking 
at  his  watch  —  "  twenty  minutes  to  three  ;  time  to  start.  Look 
here  I  shall  give  you  some  pretty  round  cursing  at  the  freight  car. 
These  0-oods,  you  understand,  ought,  to  have  gone  on  the  (ft  even- 
ing train  ;  but  you  were  off,  yourself,  we'll  say.  That  will  be  the 
reason  of  this  three  o'clock  move.     Understand  ? 

"  Every  word,  sir."  .  .      •  ^     *t 

"  Another  thing,  driver  ;  while  I  am  storming,  you  step  into  the 
car  and  set  the  boxes  right  side  up,  but,  at  any  rate,  stand  //^.r/  one, 
so,  pointing  to  the  one  that  contained  slave  property.  The  value 
of  that  one  is  twenty-five  hundred  dollars.  Right  side  up  with 
care  —  all  aboard,  now  1"  ^       i  „  u 

The  driver  took  from  his  pocket  the  shining  five-dollar  gold 

piece,  and  showed  it  to  Mr.  Blank,—-  ,  .    n  ,  » 

"  There,  that's  good  pay  for  to-night's  job,  cussmg  and  all ! 
«  Ha  i  you're  making  money  faster  than  1 1     I'll  give  you  a  bit 

of    dressing   down   out    here   at   the   door,   for    inquisitive   ears. 

Hear?"  ,       , 

"  Every  word,  sir,"  with  a  chuckling  laugh. 

"  Go  ahead,  then."  r,      i  a 

The   boxes  rumbled  out  over  the  stones  on  to  the  dray.      A 

policeman  stood  near.  ,     ,    ,, , 

"  Come,  hurry  up,  lazybones,"  grumbled  Blank,  "  keeping  me  up 


62 O  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

till  this  time  o'night.  If  you'd  been  on  hand  and  tended  to  your 
business,  this  freight  would  have  gone  on  the  evening  train  ! 
You'll  have  your  walking  papers,  to-morrow.  Drive  ahead,  I'm 
tired,"  said  Mr.  Blank,  interposing  some  of  the  most  solid  swearing 
the  policeman  had  heard. 

The  plump,  sturdy  dray  horse,  used  to  his  bed  after  this  time  of 
night,  and,  apparently  more  bewildered  than  anybody  else,  pulled 
lustily  over  the  rattling  stones. 

They  had  the  boxes  on  the  platform.  Another  lively  scene  was 
enacted  at  the  freight  car  door. 

"  Spring  aboard  there,  driver!  help  sofnebodyf  I'm  not  an  owl,  to 
be  kept  up  till  three  o'clock  at  night  for  goods  that  were  ready  to 
go  on  the  evening  train  1  pack  away,  and  take  up  your  lines  for 
the  stable  !  " 

A  new  brace  of  strong  phrases  followed. 

Inside  the  car,  the  freightman  said  to  the  driver, — 

"  I  wouldn't  work  for  such  a  crabbed  old  boss  !  I'd  starve, 
first  1  " 

"  I  suppose  it's  my  fault,"  said  the  driver  ;  "  those  boxes  ought 
to  have  gone  last  evening  ;  but  he  needn't  turn  owl,  on  my  ac- 
count.    I  can  bring  freight  alone." 

The  train  went  on.  Mr.  Blank  took  the  dray  with  the  driver 
and  directed  him  to  drive  to  his  private  residence. 

"  Tie  the  horse  there,  throw  a  blanket  over  him,  and  come  in 
for  oysters  and  coffee  ;  my  family  will  make  you  welcome." 

"All  right,  sir ;  "  and,  while  he  tied  the  wondering  animal,  the 
street  lamp  threw  its  rays  on  his  triumphant  and  happy  face. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  train  at  New  York,  Mr.  Lambelle  made 
rapid  haste  toward  the  store  of  Mr.  Blank's  consignee ;  in  a  half 
hour  the  merchant  himself,  by  the  side  of  his  driver  in  the  busi- 
ness wagon,  was  hurrying  through  streets  and  round  short  corners, 
to  the  depot,  for  the  boxes. 

In  a  hurry  they  returned. 

"  Drive  up,  Bill,"  said  the  merchant ;  "  this  is  a  cold  morning 
and  I  have  bills  to  settle  or  I  should  not  have  come  out.  At  the 
store,  he  said,  "  Tumble  them  in  here.  Bill,  to  the  back  room,  and 
put  the  horse  up  out  of  this  snow." 

The  key  of  the  door  communicating  with  the  front  store,  was 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  62 1 

turned ;  a  saw  and  hatchet  did  lively  work  on  the  most  valuable 
box.  The  cover  was  quickly  wrenched  off,  and  March,  with  the 
help  of  Mr.  Lambelle,  stepped  out  of  his  prison. 

"  Keep  your  hand  on  my  shoulder  a  few  moments,  March  ;  you 
cannot  stand  after  the   cramping,"  he  said.     "How  did  you  find 

your  quarters  ? "  .       ,,  o      u  r-      r 

"  I  found  more  liberty  in  that  box,  than  in  all  South  Carolina, 
sir  Mr.  Blank's  driver  set  my  cage  right  side  up,  and  it  was  not 
changed  till  the  train  arrived  here,  sir;  then,  I  was  turned  out  on 
my  head.     How  far  is  it  to  Canada,  now,  sir  ?  " 

"  Some  distance  yet,  but  trust  to  your  friends,  and  let  your  mind 
rest  Our  friends,  here,  will  conceal  you  to-day,  and  to-night, 
again,  in  a  Quaker  woman's  dress,  you  will  ring  my  door-bell  and 
pass  in,  out  of  danger." 

"  I  could  not  go  alone,  sir." 

"  By  no  means.  A  lady  will  accompany  you  ;  you  will  arrive  in 
a  carriage.  Our  friend,  the  merchant,  will  now  attend  to  your 
concealment  and  refreshment." 

'-'  I  will  attend  to  the  first,  before  you  leave,"  said  the  merchant ; 
"  here  is  my  private  closet,  of  which  I  hold  the  key  ;  within,  are 
blankets  and  some  of  my  extra  winter  clothing,  plenty  of  breathing 
room,  and  space  for  a  chair." 

He  held  the  door  open. 

"  Shall  I  go  in,  sir  ?  "  questioned  March. 

"»Yes,"  said  Mr.  Lambelle,  laughing;  "that's  better  than  the 
workhouse,  in  Charleston."  .,,,      ,  .r  n     «  t 

"  Do  not  take  trouble  for  my  food,"  said  March,  respectfully,  1 
have  some  seed-cakes  and  a  flask  of  water,  from  the  good  Quak- 


eress." 


"Never  mind  the  seed-cakes,  my  friend,"  answered  the  mer- 
chant. "We  give  our  Southern  fugitives  dinners  here.  Have 
no  fears ;  no  one  opens  this  closet  but  myself." 

He  put  the  key  in  his  pocket.  Mr.  Lambelle  went  to  his  own 
residence.  Mamma  Weintze  was  apprised  of  the  expected  arrival, 
and,  during  the  day,  aired  and  set  to  rights  the  secluded  little 
chamber  for  March.  ;  she  swept  the  bright  carpet,  dressed  the  bed 
in  snowy  white,  laid  the  fire  herself  in  the  cheerful  grate,  and 
placed  a  dish  of  fruit  upon  the  table.     She  even  sent   out  for  a 


622  WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK  JUNE. 

bouquet  of  fresh  flowers,  from  her  own  pocket  money,  and  placed 
them  in  a  handsome  vase  beside  the  fruit. 

"  Poor  fellow,"  she  said  to  herself,  '*  he  shall  have  the  welcome 
of  flowers.  He  came  from  the  land  of  flowers,  among  our  cold 
snows.  Something  gentler  than  snow  shall  give  joy  to  his  sore 
heart.  Sore  heart  ?  yes,  I  mean  it.  I  have  been  among  those 
Southerners ;  and  there,  /had  a  sore  heart  :  bruised  and  trampled, 
till  life  was  nearly  gone  ;  there,  my  poor  old  husband  was  tied  to 
the  whipping-post  and  publicly  flogged.  There,  in  Charleston,  he 
was  put  upon  the  tread-mill  in  the  workhouse.  There,  we  were 
robbed  of  all  our  honest  gains ;  stripped  to  poverty  by  the  very 
theives  who  fc-\tten  on  unpaid  labor.  And  why  ?  Because  my 
poor  old  Deiderich  did  what  our  Christ  would  have  done.  Be- 
cause he  had  mercy  on  a  dear,  little,  prattling  girl,  pure  white  and 
free  as  the  birds,  by  birth  ;  a  helpless  infant,  sold  into  slavery  by 
her  own  father !  because  Deiderich  gave  her  back  her  birthright  — 
her  freedom ! " 

She' raised  a  corner  of  her  apron  to  eyes  blinded  by  tears. 

"Yes,  this  poor  fugitive  from  Southern  Algerines  shall  have 
flowers.  There  they  are;  they  will  speak  to  him  sweeter  words 
than  human  voices." 

All  was  ready.  The  old  woman  locked  the  door  and  dropped  the 
key  into  her  pocket. 

She  descended  and  busied  herself  in  small  offices  of  which 
there  was  no  need,  but  which  seemed  to  make  the  njinutes  slip 
faster  away. 

From  room  to  Foom  she  went  singing  in  a  cracked  and  wavering 
voice,  snatches  of  half  forgotten  German  songs. 

The  servants  rallied  her  upon  this  unusual  gayety,  and  asked  if 
her  pretty  Zaffiri  would  return  from  Europe  that  night  ? 

The  day  wore  away ;  at  nine  o'clock  a  carriage  dashed  to  the 
door.  Two  Quakeresses  rang  the  bell  and  the  carriage  drove 
away.  INIamma  Weintze  answered  the  summons  and  received  her 
expected  friends. 

March  felt  his  pulses  throbbing  less  tumultuous  in  the  precincts 
of  his  charming  seclusion.  His  eye  became  less  changeful,  his 
glances  less  furtive,  and   his  intercourse   grew  gradually  marked 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  623 

by  the  suavity  and  dignity  of  character  which  he  posessed  by  birth 
and  experience. 

Mr.  Lambelle  spent  an  hour  or  more  daily  in  his  retreat. 

"  You  are  in  prison  yet,  my  friend,  he  said  fraternally ;  on  our 
part,  your  chains  are  woven  of  sympathy  and  affection.  On  the 
part  of  the  United  States,  its  laws  and  statutes,  you  are  in  invol- 
untary and  compulsory  incarceration.  This  city  forges  the  chains 
for  a  continuation  of  your  former  servitude.  They  expect  youF 
discovery.     Freedom  awaits  you  only  in  Canada. 

"  A  monarchy  will  confer  the  liberty  of  which  our  Republic 
mockingly  boasts.  Liberty  on  American  soil  is  a  baseless  and 
delusive  dream.  Could  a  true  Republic  force  her  children  to  arti- 
fice and  subterfuge,  even  to  leave  its  territory  that  they  may  obtain 
the  very  blessing  of  Freedom  which  it  denies.?  By  no  means. 
Better  live  in  Turkey  or  Algiers,  or  among  barbarians.  Keep  your 
prison  here  for  a  few  months  at  least,  till  these  blood-thirsty  slave- 
catchers,  goaded  by  the  large  reward  offered  for  your  appreiien- 
sion,  shall  have  lost  all  track  of  their  game.  It  is  now  February. 
I  think  in  May  it  will  be  safe  to  move." 

Father  Weintze  and  his  old  wife  found  March's  chamber  ^  an 
enticing  resort.  They  learned  news  of  their  Charleston  acquaint- 
ances ;  of  the  increasing  acrimony  corroding  Southern  sentiment, 
and  of  the  ringing  challenges  for  secession. 

"March,"  said  Father  Weintze,  "  that  people  grows  more  bloody 
and  arbitrary  every  year.  They  will  surely  draw  destruction  upon 
their  own  heads,  in  the  end." 

March  smiled  incredulously. 

"  Their  high-handed  defiance  carries  all  before  them  ;  they  have 
had  their  own  way  so  far,  without  rebuke.  Their  outrages  out- 
numbered the  waves  of  the  sea,  and  none  have  been  able  to  say. 
Nay  !  " 

"  That  is  so,"  replied  the  old  man  ;  "  but  if  there  is  warning  on 
the  pages  of  history — if  there  is  justice  in  Heaven,  they  must 
settle  their  black  account  with  some  power  strong  enough  to  cope 
with  their  blind  madness.  I  am  old.  You  may  live  to  see  the  aw- 
ful balance-sheet." 

A  few   days  after  the  return  from  Washington,  Mr.  Lambelle 


624  WHITE    MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

looked   in  upon  the   commissioner,  inquiring  if   he  had   got   upon 
the  track  of  the  South  Carolina  fugitive. 

"  Not  yet,"  was  the  reply.  *•  We've  ripped  up  any  number  of 
sleeves,  and  spoiled  any  number  of  coats ;  not  a  brand  has  come 
to  light.  That  brand  fixes  him,  though.  We  are  sure  of  captur- 
ing the  fellow.  He  is  probably  lurking  in  Philadelphia.  All 
thoroughfares  out  of  the  city  will  be  under  strict  survilliance." 

"  That's  a  handsome  reward,  and  your  experience  will  make  it 
difficult  for  the  runaway  to  get  past  the  pickets.  Deputize  me 
marshal,  as  your  assitant,  if  you  like  ;  furnish  me  the  papers  con- 
ferring the  proper  authority  to  arrest,  and  I  am  at  your  service. 
I  have  pledged  myself  to  his  master  to  look  after  him.  The  re- 
ward shall  be  yours.  I  am  only  fulfilling  an  obligation  of  friend- 
ship to  Colonel  Haywood,  the  fellow's  owner.  He  gave  me 
permission  to  fix  him  with  that,"  drawing  out  his  Venetian  knife, 
*'  if  there  should  not  be  time  for  hand-cuffs  —  so,  dead  or  alive, 
the  twenty-five  hundred  dollars  will  be  yours.  I  think  I  have 
some  opportunities  for  observation  that  others  may  lack." 

*'  You  are  gassing,  Lambelle !  I  know  you  are  true  blue  ;  that 
is,  all  correct  on  the  Constitution  and  Southern  rights ;  but  gentle- 
men of  your  cloth,  a  merchant  of  your  means,  would  not  soil  your 
gloves  handling  niggers." 

"I  may  not  soil  my  gloves,  or  I  may,  as  the  occasion  requires. 
With  a  commission  from  you,  in  my  pocket,  I  can  make  up  a  posse 
at  any  time  or  place.  But,  really,  catching  slave  property  should 
not  be  beneath  anj>  cloth,  when,  par  exce//ence,  that  is  the  engross- 
ing business  of  the  nation  —  when  it  occupies  the  august  attention 
of  the  chief  justice  on  the  supreme  bench,  inferior  judges  and 
courts,  congress  and  legislatures." 

"  That's  so,"  said  the  commissioner.  "  That's  the  way  I  reason. 
Bur,  joking  aside,  do  you  want  a  commission,  Lambelle  ?  " 

'•  I  do  ;  I  have  pledged  my  word  to  his  master  to  look  after  the 
vagabond.  The  reward  shall  be  yours.  I  want  nothing  of  the 
twenty-five  hundred.  I  am  only  fulfilling  an  obligation  of  friend- 
ship to  the  fellow's  owner,  Colonel  Haywood,  who  is  in  Washing- 
ton. 

"  That  kind  of  arrest,  with  your  knife,  there,  might  answer  for 
his   master,"   replied   the  commissioner.     But  our  country  is   not 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  625 

quite  up  to  the  bowe-knife  as  a  legal  instrument.  If  this  March 
eludes  us,  we  might  substitute  another  shade  of  color  ;  one  as 
black  as  your  coachman,  Lambelle,  would  make  as  good  a  slave  as 
the  light  mulatto  in  the  description.  Would  Colonel  Haywood  ob- 
ject, if  he  should  have  returned  to  him  the  same  value,  in  another 
article?" 

"  He  would  object.  Identity  is  the  word  ;  I  suspect  he  is  more 
chagrined  at  the  sharp  trick  his  slave  played  on  him,  than  at  the 
loss.  Probably  he  has  a  course  of  punishment  and  humiliation 
prepared  for  his  capture.  Identity  is  the  word;  that  throws  the 
perquisite  of  twenty-five  hundred  dollars  into  doubt." 

'*  We  get  ihe  largest  pay  from  the  United  States,"  the  marshal 
answered,  absently,  while  filling  and  signing  Mr  Lambelle's  com- 
mission. 

•'  Hasiiunting  proved  remunerative  the  past  year,  marshal?  " 

"  Pays  better  than  any  other  business.  The  Federal  treasury 
never  scrutinizes  bills  or  contests  them.  There  has  been  more 
captures  this  past  year,  than  in  sixty  years  before." 

''  I  suppose  the  cost  of  returning  a  fugitive  might  easily  be 
doubled,  and  the  amount  would  be  forthcoming  ?  " 

**Yes,  'Uncle  Sam'  trusts  entirely  to  our  bills,  as  I  said.  I 
know  of  one  case  of  returning  five  slaves.  It  cost  the  old  fellow 
twenty-two  thousaiiddollajs,  where  the  expenses  were  only  two  thou- 
sand. So  the  marshal  and  posse  made  twenty  thousand  dollars 
out  of  that  little  affair.  But  this  is  only  between  you  and  me,  Lam- 
belle." 

"  Certainly,  marshal,"  folding  his  commission,  "  you'll  hear  from 
me  again  ;  as  I  said  before,  I  think  I  have  some  opportunities  for 
observation  that  are  wanting  to  others  in  regard  to  this  March." 

Mr.  Lambelle  returned  to  his  own  counting  room,  wrote  a  letter 
with  'double  entendre'  to  Colonel  Haywood,  informing  him  of  his 
investment  with  authority  to  arrest  fugitives,  and  of  his  purpose  to 
look  closely  after  his  servant,  and  send  him  forward  at  the  earliest 

moment. 

During  three  months  he  called  often  upon  the  marshal.  The 
blood-chilling  secrets  of  slave-catching  and  kidnapping  were  fully 
confided  to  him,  and  he  became  a  secret  confederate  with  others  in 
a  series  of  tactics  to  ensnare  the  twenty-five  hundred  dollar  prize. 


626  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

May  came.  Mr.  Lambelle's  last  few  visits  to  the  marshal  con- 
vinced him  that  the  hunters  had  given  up  hope,  and  ceased  ihe 
search. 

"Oh!  I've  no  doubt,"  growled  the  marshal,  "that  the  pale- 
livered  devil  was  in  Canada  before  his  master  advertised.  VVe've 
had  our  trouble  for  our  pains.  However,  I'll  fasten  the  expenses 
on  the  next  chase,  and  Uncle  Sam  shall  reimburse." 

All  this  was  nightly  repeated  to  March   in  his  agreeable  prison. 

"  It  is  safe,  now,  to  depart,"  said  Mr.  Lambelle  ;  and  he  proceeded 
to  lay  before  March,  the  steps  to  be  taken.  "  I  have  a  coachman 
near  enough  to  your  size,  who  is  black  as  ebony,  with  African  hair 
and  heavy  beard.  The  people  in  the  city  are  accustomed  to  sec 
him  driving  me  about,  either  with  a  pair  and  the  carriage,  or  to  and 
from  my  place  of  business  in  a  single  vehicle.  I  propose  to  get 
you  up  in  his  likeness  with  paint  and  false  hair  and  beard,  on  the 
evening  of  the  first  steady  rain.  J\ly  coachman  will  drive  me  here 
to  my  door.  He  will  enter  ;  you  will  put  on  his  livery  ;  he  will 
remain  within,  and  you,  jNIarch,  will  go  out  to  the  vehicle  as  driver. 
Through  the  long  night  we  will  make  our  way  to  the  house  of  an 
abolitionist  friend.  During  the  day,  we  will  sleep.  The  next 
night  we  shall  proceed  to  the  next  station  ;  rest  there,  thus  advanc- 
ing till  you  are  in  Canada.  David  is  my  coachman.  You  will 
answer  to  his  name. 

The  former  nervous  anxiety  returned ;  anticipation  of  danger 
drove  the  color  from  March's  face  and  sent  a  tremor  to  his  limbs. 

"  I  have  no  friend  to  rely  upon  but  you,  sir.  I  should  prefer 
death  to  returnin2:  to  mv  brother  and  master." 

"  You  will  do  neither,"  said  Father  Weinize.  "  You  will  make 
a  safe  and  pleasant  journey  with  our  common  protector,  here.  He 
is  our  pillar  of  cloud  by  day  and  our  pillar  of  fire  by  night,  and 
God  is  over  all." 

Kindly  Nature  soon  afforded  the  rainy  night.  One  David  in 
livery  drove  Mr.  Lambelle  to  his  door,  and,  in  the  full  glare  of  the 
street  lamp,  another  David  in  livery  drove  him  away.  Out  of  the 
long  line  of  flaming  lamps,  out  of  the  dimmer  suburbs,  out  upon 
the  dark,  wet,  sandy  roads  they  flew.  No  clamor,  cry,  or  sound 
excited  alarm.  Nothing  was  heard  but  the  beating  rain,  the  quick 
thud  and  splash  of   nimble  hoofs,  the  flop  of  the  rubber  cover  on 


WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  627 

the  horse,  and  the  dripping  wheels.  Nothing  was  seen  but  the 
darkness.  Not  a  word  was  uttered  but  the  brief  directions —  "  To 
the  right !  "  "  To  the  left !  "  "  Hold  up  "  or  "  Go  ahead  !  "  and, 
finally,  "  Pass  me  the  lines,  David." 

Before  the  sun  rose,  horse  and  travelers  were  welcomed  under 
the  calm,  brooding  roofs  of  a  villa  ever  opened  to  the  oppressed. 
They  slept  in  quiet  chambers  to  the  spring  song  of  birds  and  under 
the  wary  watch  of  sentinels  below. 

The  second  night  was  a  repetition  of  the  first,  in  speed,  silence, 
and  safety.     One  addidonal  sentence  cheered  the  way. 

"  Towards  the  North  ^tar,  David,"  pointing  with  the  whip  for 
an  index. 

The  second  day,  they  rested  in  the  cheery,  red  farm-house  of  Mr. 
Snow,  Filette's  father.  The  were  fed,  literally,  on  milk  and  honey, 
while  hidden  from  mischievous  eyes.  The  hearty,  patriarchal  wel- 
come, the  loving,  maternal  solicitude,  the  Christian  sympathy  that 
weeps  with  those  that  weep,  and  rejoices  with  those  that  rejoice, 
were  the  treasures  of  this  household.  In  this  atmosphere,  March 
felt  the  shackles  of  slavery  slipping  off.  His  hitherto  suppressed 
manhood  rose  and  broadened ;  his  courage  was  braced  and  his 
freedom  dawned. 

"  Stay,  my  friend,"  plead  Mr.  Snow,  "  a  couple  of  days  ;  rest 
and  refresh  yourselves  —  sleep  amidst  orchard  blooms;  visit  my 
barns,  inspect  my  stock,  smell  the  sweet  mows  of  hay,  and  learn 
how  a  New  England  farmer  lives.  Then,  Mr.  Lambelle  if  you 
must  return,  take  the  third  morning's  sun  and  ride  leisurely  back, 
among  spring  buds  and  breezes.  I  will  take  David  on  to  Cloud- 
spire,  the  second  night,  with  a  lively-stepping  thorough-bred.  TU 
be  conductor  between  this  place  and  the  next.  I  know  every  inch 
of  the  track.  1 11  put  David  safely  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Link.  He 
is  agent  for  the  Underground  Railroad  from  that  station  ;  and, 
David,  you  can  never  be  in  better  hands  than  his.  Mr.  Link  has 
the  nature  of  a  lamb  with  the  courage  of  a  lion.  He's  as  gentle  as 
a  child,  but  he  never  knew  fear  in  a  just  cause.  Isn't  that  so,  Mr. 
Lambelle?" 

"Precisely,"  replied  Mr.  Lambelle,  warmly.  "I  reckon  Mr. 
Link  among^my  cherished  friends." 

"  Then  I  must  take  my  farewell  of  you  here,  sir,"  said  March  to 


628  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE, 

Mr.  Lambelle,  gazing  at  him  intently  through  dimming  sight,  as 
if  to  photograph  every  feature  of  his  well-tried  friend  upon  his 
memory. 

"  Not  a  farewell,  March,  I  trust,  if  life  continues.  I  have 
formed  a  deep  affection  for  you,  and  shall  seek  you  out  in  Canada 
at  the  earliest  opportunity.  That  opportunity  may  not  occur 
within  two  years  ;  so  keep  me  informed  of  your  doings  and  where- 
abouts. My  wife  is  in  Europe.  When  she  returns  we  shall  settle 
in  Canada.  I  may  do  business  in  New  York,  or  I  may  make  a 
transfer  to  Montreal.  Then,  March,  I  shall  want  you  as  a  part  of 
my  family.  By  the  way,  you  should  have  a  new  name.  There  is 
no  further  use  for  David,  and  March  is  dangerous." 

"  I  think  so,  sir." 

"  Suppose  then  you  take  Paul  for  the  first  and  our  host's  name 
for  the  last  ?     Paul  Snow  ;  how  is  that  ?  " 

"I  like  it,  sir." 

At  nine  o'clock  of  the  second  night,  Paul  Snow  and  Farmer 
Snow,  after  much  rearing  and  dancing  on  the  part  of  "  Thorough- 
bred," and  multiplied  good  wishes  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Snow  and 
Mr.  Lambelle,  darted  out  of  the  yard  upon  the  Cloudspire  road. 

After  a  two  mile  heat,  Paul  remarked, — 

"I  think  this  horse  must  be  a  Southerner;  he  is  sufficiently  fiery 
and  hard  on  the  bit." 

"  No,"  said  the  farmer  with  a  laugh,  "  he's  not  a  blue-blood. 
He's  a  Northerner  :  fiery,  resolute,  tractable  and  enduring ;  quali- 
ties which  most  of  our  Northern  men  possess,  and  which  would 
make  their  hue  and  cry  about  secession  as  useless  as  a  broken 
dog-whistle.  This  secession  is  a  great  bug-bear.  I  only  wish 
they'd  try  it  once !  "  said  the  farmer,  in  a  tone  of  the  deepest 
scorn. 

''I  think  they  will,  sir." 

"Let  it  come,"  replied  Mr.  Snow,  severely.  The  sooner  they 
feel  the  weight  of  the  Northern  arm  the  better.  Like  the  blows  of 
an  iron  sledge  it  will  grind  them  to  powder." 

In  a  lower  tone,  he  advised  to  drop  conversation. 

The  hours  rolled  on  as  all  hours  will,  whether  mingled  with  joy, 
or  weighted  with  fear. 

In  the  dim  uncertainty  of   morning,  w'hile  Cloudspire  yet  slept, 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  629 

Mr.   Snow   reined   "  Thoroughbred "    into   Mr.    Link's    spacious 
shed. 

"  This  town  is  wide  awake  on  the  Constitution,  Paul,"  said  the 
farmer.  "They're  patriots  to  country,  and  traitors  to  humanity. 
They're  a  choice  pack  of  hounds  on  a  man's  track.  They'd  hunt 
you  down  quick.  They  lack  one  quality,  however  —  that  is  con- 
science J  so  they  can't  know  you  are  here.  It's  as  dark  as  a 
pocket  in  this  deep  shed.  Mr.  Link  has  just  struck  a  light. 
Thoroughbred  is  as  wet  as  if  he  had  escaped  from  Pharoah,  out  of 
the  Red  Sea." 

"I  expect  he  has,  sir,  escaped  from  Pharoah.  Will  it  injure  him 
sir  ?  "  asked  Paul. 

"  Not  a  whit !  we  all  have  to  sweat  in  search  for  Liberty,  in 
this  Republic.  There  comes  the  good  man  out  of  his  kitchen 
door." 

Mr.  Link  came  into  the  shed,  saying  in  a  genial  voice, — 

"  I  heard  the  buggy  drive  into  the  dark  here  ;  I  cannot  rightly 
welcome  my  friends.     Will  you  go  in  ?  " 

"lam  Filette's  father — my  name  is  Snow,  from  Connecticut. 
The  other  is  my  brother,  Paul.  Take  him  in,  my  friend,  to  a  pri- 
vate room  where  he  will  explain.  I  must  ride  over  to  George's, 
before  the  neighbors  get  routed.  Will  make  you  a  call  this  after- 
noon." 

Mr.  Snow  rode  quickly  away. 

Mr.  Link  and  Paul  entered  the  house. 

Mr.  Link  turned  the  key,  and  by  the  candle-light  scanned  his 
newly-arrived  guest. 

"  Oh !  I  see,"  said  he,  grasping  Paul's  hand,  "  I  guess  you're  a 
brother  to  me  as  well  as  Mr.  Snow.  It  will  be  best  to  put  out 
this  light.  Just  follow  me  up  stairs  to  your  chamber,  and  there  we 
will  hold  some  conversation." 

"  Are  you  on  your  way  to  Canada  ?  "  inquired  the  host. 

"I  am,  sir  ;  and  was  assured  that  you  were  the  slaver's  helper, 
and  would  take  me  the  rest  of  the  distance.  I  conjure  you,  sir, 
by  the  love  you  bear  the  common  Father,  to  do  this." 

"  Right !  I  can  do  it  without  the  least  danger,  and  I  wzV/.  Throw 
every  fear  to  the  winds.  I  know  several  different  routes,  and  to 
assure  you  still  further,  I   prepared  for  these  night  journeys  the 


630  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

very  year  the  Fugitive  Slave  Act  passed  Congress.  I  am  a  drover  ; 
may  be  they  have  told  you.  I  travel  all  over  the  two  States  between 
here  and  Canada.  Well,  I  said  to  myself,  I  don't  think  I  could 
serve  the  Lord  better  than  to  spy  out  an  untried  way  to  Canada  for 
these  hunted  ones,  and  about  three  families  where  I  can  stop  and 
sleep  days,  in  security. 

"  So  I  set  to  work  buying  cattle  and  laying  a  track.  I  found 
three  small  farmers  among  the  mountains  who  would  shelter  the 
fleeing  bondman  at  the  peril  of  their  lives.  Their  humble  dwell- 
ings are  a  night's  ride  apart.  To  each  one  I  gave  a  strong  limbed 
horse,  both  for  their  use  and  for  mine;  —  for  mine,  when  a  swift 
night-ride  over  mountains  and  rough  roads  makes  a  change  of 
horses  necessary.  These  horses  are  always  ready,  fleet  and  strong. 
None  w'ill  molest  or  make  you  afraid.  I  have  traveled  this  road 
five  times  up  and  down  the  mountains,  along  the  deep  valleys,  by 
the  foaming,  rocky  water-courses,  through  miles  of  silent  over- 
shadowing forests,  without  an  obstacle  or  a  startling  sound.  I  have 
made  haste  to  inform  you  of  this,  that  your  tantalized  and  buffeted 
spirit  may  be  relieved  of  the  torturing  uncertainty  incident  to 
secret  routes  and  a  trust  in  strangers.  Sleep,  now,  my  hunted 
brother;  there  is  your  bed.  Take  what  the  Lord  gives  to  his 
beloved  —  Sleep.  There  is  light  in  the  east.  Lock  yourself  in. 
1  will  go  as  usual  to  my  barns." 


T 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

HREE  years  slowly  passed,  from  the  time  of  Zafliri's  swift 
flight  from  the  home  in  New  York,  and  from  the  encircling 
aftection  of  her  husband.  Three  yeais  slowly  passed  ;  not  only 
for  the  lonely  fugiti"'e,  making  her  nest  of  safety  among  the  valleys 
of  the  Alps,  or  in  picturesque  villas  under  Italian  skies,  but  to  those 
others  of  darker  skin,  whose  escape  from  chains  and  cruelty  caused 
them  to  be  hunted  in  the  Free  States  on  American  soil  ;  and  whose 
hunters,  endowed  with  greater  sagacity  and  keener  scent  than  the 
Southern  bloodhound,  seldom  failed  of  their  prey. 

After  his  wife's  departure,  Mr.  Lambelle,  desirous  of  retaining 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  63 1 

Zaffiri's  abode  in  the  order  of  her  arrangement,  the  most  sacred 
memorial  of  her  rare  taste  and  precious  affection,  called  back  Papa 
and'Mamma  Weintze  to  its  luxurious  comfort.  He  charged  the 
kind-hearted  old  lady,  whom  h,e  made  his  househeeper,  with  instruc- 
tions to  preserve  the  interior,  furniture,  pictures,  books  and  orna- 
ments, precisely  as  they  were  left  at  the  compulsory  exile  of  its 
mistress. 

In  the  haste  and  grief  of  leavetaking,  an  embroidered  handker- 
chief, and  a  small  pair  of  gloves  were  left  upon  the  table  of  her 
room.  They  were  there  still,  speaking  the  silent  language  of 
remembrance.  A  cluster  of  violets  and  tea  roses,  which  she  had 
worn  in  her  wheaten  hair  the  last  evening,  had  fallen  from  it  during 
the  tearful,  despairing  promenade  to  and  fro  on  the  arm  of  her 
husband,  in  the  limited  extent  of  her  chamber,  during  packing.  She 
had  tossed  these,  unconsciously,  upon  her  reading  table,  among  the 
books.  Faded  and  withered,  they  remained  just  where  they  had 
dropped  from  her  hand.  The  affection  of  her  husband  had  shel- 
tered it  from  dust  and  the  profane  touch  by  a  bell-shaped  glass. 

He  had  made  one  journey  to  Europe  in  the  meantime  ;  had  hur- 
ried across  France,  regardless  of  scenes  and  objects  of  interest, 
occupied  only  with  the  inspiring  expectation  of  meeting  and  hold- 
ing to  his  heart  the  one  beloved  being  of  his  life. 

Zaffiri  had  awaited  her  husband's  arrival  at  Florence.  There  she 
learned  from  his  lips  occurrences  and  signs  of  the  times  immedi- 
ately concerning  their  happiness  and  welfare,  v/hich  had  never  been 
committed  to  paper  in  their  correspondence,  lest  in  contingences  of 
travel  their  carefully  guarded  secret  should  be  exposed. 

Together  with  Mary,  whom  Zaffiri  had  learned  to  love  as  a  sister, 
they  wandered  about  the  romantic  environs  of  this  Italian  cit}'^  of 
painting  and  sculpture,  beholding  fresh  beauty  everywhere. 

"My  dear  Claude,"  said  his  wife,  leaning  upon  his  arm,  and  fix- 
ing the  idolatory  of  her  blue  eyes,  swimming  in  tears,  upon  his 
face,  "  My  dear  Claude,  with  you  by  my  side,  my  taste  for  the  beau- 
tiful in  Art  and  Nature  returns.  Your  presence  is  like  a  golden 
dawn,  which  gilds  and  permeates  every  object  with  its  glory.  With- 
out you,  Claude,  the  master-pieces  Raphael,  Titian  or  Angelo  are 
meaningless  and  lack-lustred.  Separated  so  far  from  you,  the  most 
striking  pieces  of  sculpture  seem  but  dead  forms  of  the  past.     If 


C32  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

vour  Zaffiri  had  been  banished  to  the  sterile  deserts  and  snows  of 
Siberia,  by  the  autocratic  fiat  of  Russia,  her  fate  could  not  have 
been  more  rigorous ;  for  the  alleviation  and  repose  of  mind  \\iiich 
only  mitigate  this  exile  are  thoughts  of  you,  my  husbad,  of  your 
unchanging  devotion,  and  of  my  own  happy  home.  These  mem- 
ories would  make  Russian  banishment  as  endurable  as  Italy." 

"  It  is  two  years  since  your  fl'ght,  Zaffiri." 

"  Two  long  years,"  she  repeated.  "  Has  not  the  South  at  last 
grown  apathetic  in  the  pursuit  of  her  fugitives  ?  " 

"  No,  my  darling ;  more  ferocious  instead.  The  first  year  after 
the  passage  of  the  bill,  it  is  computed  that  the  man-hunters  cap- 
tured more  slaves  than  they  had  done  in  sixty  years  before.  The 
implacable  chase  extends  even  to  kidnapping  the  free.  I  have 
been  thinking  we  might  make  our  home  in  our  American  Siberia." 

"  in  Canada,  dear  Claude  ?  that  is  not  far  from  New  Vork. 
How  much  time  must  intervene  before  I  can  return  there  .'* " 

"I  think  one  more  year  in  Europe  will  be  best,  Zaffiri  —  one 
year  from  this  spring.  Then  the  Canadian  summer  will  make  it 
more  endurable  for  you,  my  tender  lily,  although  thousands  and 
thousands  have  made  it  their  refuge  from  chains  and  cruelty,  during 
the  severest  rigors  of  a  Northern  winter,  scantily  clothed  and  half 
famished  —  a  Siberia,   indeed,  to    them." 

They  were  wandering  leisurel}'-  up  the  eminence  Fiesole  ;  and, 
having  reached  the  summit,  they  were  seated  in  the  enchanting 
view  of  Florence  and  the  vale  of  Arno. 

"  Oh,  Claude  !  "  exclaimed  Zaffiri,  joining  her  hands  and  bowing 
her  head  on  them,  "what  attraction  can  this  resplendent  scene 
have  for  me,  when  I  reflect  upon  the  persecution  and  want  of  that 
vast  number  who  threw  off  their  shackles  in  the  same  way  I  did  ? 
I  am  no  better  than  they.  I  am  filled  with  pity  and  dismay.  How 
long,  O  Lord  !  how  long' will  this  suffering  continue  .'*  " 

'•  Be  calm,  my  dear  Zaffiri !  there  is  an  Arm  that  rights  wrong. 
The  South  is  laying  a  mine  under  its  own  feet.  In  some  way,  it 
must  entomb  their  homes  and  hopes.     Trust  and  wait,  my  exile  !  " 

"  Till  my  life  ends  ?  "  she  sobbed. 

"  I  believe  not.  The  South  is  resolved  on  forcing  a  disunion, 
either  by  the  catastrophe  of  secession,  or  a  separation  by  common 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  633 

consent.  We  shall  see  when  the  crisis  comes.  Zdi^ri,  it  will  come  ! 
Listen  !  I  have  something  to  disclose  to  you  of  Papa  VVeintze  and 
Southern  eifrontery." 

"  What  can  have  happened  to  him,  Claude  ?  Has  he  not  suf- 
fered enough,  already  ?"> 

"  You  know  the  long  distance  between  my  store  and  our  dwell  - 
ing.  The  old  man  was  going  to  the  house.  A  Charlestonian 
who  formerly  knew  him,  met  him  on  the  walk.  He  accosted  Papa 
Weintze,  rudely. 

''  Hallo,  old  gray-headed  thief  !  old  Weintze,  the  slave-stealer  ! 
How  came  you  in  New  York?  Where's  the  '  Evening  Star'  you 
hustled  away  to  the  North  ?  It  will  be  safer  to  inform  where  she 
is,  than  to  guard  the  secret.  I  saw  you  tied  to  the  whipping-post, 
in  Charleston  —your  punishment  was  deserved.  We'll  have  whip- 
ping-posts planted  in  the  North,  yet.  Congress  will  plant  them, 
and  pay  expenses.  Uncle  Sam  will  pay  the  whippers.  Come, 
now,  Where's  '  Evening  Star  ? '     Own  up,  old  Dutchman,  or  you'll 


regret  it. 


"  I'll  call  the  police  !  "  said  Papa  Weintze,  "  if  you  continue  this 
abuse.  I've  had  enough  of  Southern  pirates  in  their  own  dens.  I 
demand  peace  in  the  North  !  "  and  walked  away. 

I  was  not  in  the  city.  Weintze  had  charge  of  the  store,  and 
came  home  late.  When  he  arrived  near  the  spot  of  the  morning's 
onset,  he  was  felled  to  the  pavement  by  an  unknown  hand,  first 
hearing  the  words, — 

"  '  Call  the  police,  now,  slare-stealer  ! '  " 

"The  dear,  old  father!"  ejaculated  Zaffiri.  "In  the  street! 
helpless,  old,  and  infirm  !     Who  cared  for  him,  Claude  }  " 

"  Policemen  found  him  lying  there,  took  him  to  the  station-house  ; 
and,  by  morning,  he  was  able  to  be  carried  home,  where  I  found 
him  the  next  day,  in  bed.  He  did  not  go  out  for  a  week.  They 
have  not  forgotten  '  Evening  Star ! '  Canada  will  be  our  secured 
home.  One  year  from  this  time,  all  shall  be  ready  for  my  young, 
proud,  blue-blooded  wife." 

This  was  spoken  with  merriment  and  laughter  so  contagious, 
that  Zaffiri  and  Mary  joined  heartily  in  the  rippling  melody. 

Together,  they  passed  on  to  Rome  —  thence  to  Naples ;  there, 


634  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

in  evening  strolls  by  the  star-spangled  waters  of  the  magnificent 
bay,  they  reviewed  their  early  love,  cemented  then,  as  now,  by  the 
appealing  friendliness  of  the  beautiful  slav^e-girl. 

Mr.  Lambelle  returned  to  New  York  ;  and,  at  the  time  of  the 
commencement  of  this  chapter,  that  three  years  of  Zaffiri's  exile 
had  nearly  passed.  She  was  still  in  Europe.  He  was  to  depart 
on  the  morrow  for  Canada,  to  prepare  a  residence  for  the  reunion 
of  his  family.  A  note  was  placed  in  his  hand  by  a  messenger  from 
Hotel.  This  note  was  signed  "  Frederick  Warham,"'  solicit- 
ing an  early  interview  with  Mr.  Lambelle,  on  business  of  impor- 
tance. A  thrill  of  surprise  disturbed  his  equanimity  for  a  few 
moments.  However,  at  the  appropriate  hour,  he  was  ushered  into 
the  private  apartment  of  the  Carolinian. 

Courtesy  and  cordiality  characterized  the  reception.  The  Rev. 
Fred  reclined  upon  a  bed.  He  was  pale  and  wasted  by  sickness. 
The  servant  placed  a  chair  at  the  bedside  for  the  visitor,  and  was 
then  bidden  to  retire.  Left  alone,  Frederick  Warham  turned  his 
hollow  eyes  to  ]\Ir.  Lambelle,  and  said  in  an  enfeebled  voice, — 

"1  have  just  returned  from  Europe.  I  am  going  home  to  die  — 
to  morrow,  I  take  passage  for  Charleston.  I  went  abroad,  in  the 
hope  of  restoring  my  failing  health.  It  was  in  vain.  1  have 
steadily  declined.  Whether  this  increasing  weakness  arises  from 
the  fatigue  of  the  voyage,  or  whether  it  is  the  final  yielding  of 
Natures  forces,  I  cannot  judge.  I  desire  to  complete  one  act, 
before  essaying  the  trying  journey  to  Carolina.  In  doing  this,  I 
wish  to  secure  you  as  aid  and  confidait.  Am  I  asking  too  great  a 
favor,  sir  ?  " 

"  By  no  means.  Inform  me  of  your  pleasure.  It  will  be  mine. 
yVllow  me  to  pour  for  you  a  small  draught  of  wine,  before  proceed- 
ing." 

The  invalid  drank  it  with  a  look  of  gratitude,  and  continued, 
as  if  he  feared  even  then  the  thread  of  life  might  break. 

"  I  have  three  slaves,  Mr.  Lambelle,  which  I  wish  to  manumit 
before  my  dissolution.  I  ask  that  it  be  done  under  your  eye,  as 
witness  ;  and  that  you  retain  in  your  keeping  a  duplicate  of  the 
instrument,  in  case  accident  or  chicanery  should  destroy  the  other. 
There  is  reason  in  this.  Our  people  South  have  come  to  the  deter- 
mination that  no  free  colored  shall  be   tolerated  in  slave  territory. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  635 

Those  who  are  already  free,  must  either  be  driven  out,  or  be  re- 
duced to  the  yoke  of  bondage.  Thus  it  is  plain,  my  friend,  that 
opposition  may  arise  to  this  bestowal  of  freedom." 

He  hesitated,  as  if  in  perplexity.  His  thin  fingers  sought  the 
hand  of  his  auditor. 

"You  are  a  man,"  he  said.  "I  can  lay  bare  to  your  sight  the 
dearest  secret  of  my  life.  These  three  slaves  are  wife  and  chil- 
dren to  me.  Minnie,  the  mother,  is  a  quadroon,  of  rare  and  won- 
derful beauty.  I  have  never  married.  She  was  the  choice  of  my 
soul ;  and  she  is  still  the  strong  tie  that  would  bind  me  to  earth. 
I  hope  to  die  in  her  arms.  My  last  look  must  rest  on  her  beloved 
face.  I  have  not  freed  her,  because  ownership  was  the  only  legal 
bond  between  us.  My  happiness  was,  and  is  enwrapped  in  hers  ; 
therefore,  I  have  deferred  her  freedom  till  the  present ;  for  to  me, 
that  word  seemed  to  mean  separation.  Now  the  hour  has  come  — 
if  it  be  delayed,  my  beloved  Minnie  will  be  mercilessly  sold  with 
my  plantation  slaves.  And  my  boys  !  my  God  !  what  will  become 
of  them  ? " 

In  his  excitement,  he  had  risen  from  his  pillow ;  but  he  sank 
back,  groaning  under  the  weight  of  the  terrible  thought. 

"  Would  it  not  be  best  to  send  for  the  attorney  immediately  ?  " 
suggested  Mr.  Lambelle.  "  You  will  feel  relieved  when  this  bur- 
den shall  have  been  rolled  from  the  mind." 

"  Let  it  be  done."  he  replied.  "  Send  my  servant,  sir.  The  at- 
torney has  had  warning ;  the  papers  will  be  ready,  except  my  sig- 
nature, and  witness.  While  he  is  gone  I  have  further  explanation 
for  3'our  ear.  I  desire  Minnie  and  my  boys  to  take  up  their  resi- 
dence in  Canada." 

Mr.  Lambelle  replied  quickly, — 

"I  will  meet  her  and  the  children  upon  their  arrival  in  New 
York,  upon  receiving  the  proper  information  of  her  departure  from 
Carolina.  I  will  personally  attend  them  to  Canada.  Consider  the 
matter  settled,  my  friend,  and  take  a  few  moments  rest  before  the 
attorney  enters." 

In  an  hour's  time  duplicates  of  the  manumission  and  will  were 
executed,  signed,  sealed,  and  placed  in  the  possession  of  their  re- 
spective holders  —  Mr.  Lambelle  and  Frederick  Warham. 

Mr.   Lambelle  insisted   upon  tarrying  through  the  night,  to  the 


636  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

great  gratification  of  the  invalid.  He  administered  an  opiate, 
kindly  enjoined  silence,  and  seated  himself  by  the  couch  to  watch 
the  recuperation  of  exhausted  strength. 

Most  wonderfully  had  the  springs  of  thought  been  set  in  motion 
by  this  unexpected  incident,  in  the  mind  of  the  watcher.  '  Most 
rapidly  and  noiselessly  they  worked,  making  no  index  for  exterior 
observation. 

"What  is  this  mine  eyes  have  seeti  ?"  said  an  inner  voice,  "  but 
the  amalgamation  so  decried  by  the  Southerner  ?  I  have  never  seen 
its  counterpart  in  the  North,  either  in  wedlock,  or  out  of  it.  What 
defiant  mockery  is  the  Southern  cry  of  amalgamation,  to  those  who 
would  righteously  loosen  fetters  and  let  the  captive  go  free  !  Ah  ! 
this  shame  and  derision  hurled  at  the  North  are  the  tricks  of  harle- 
quins. The  South  plays  the  harlequin  dexterously  !  Her  sweet 
and  gentle  affections  are  linked  with  the  loves  of  her  slaves.  Yet 
all  have  not  the  abiding,  faithful  heart  of  this  sleeper  !  His  beauti- 
ful and  beloved  Minnie  is  his  first  and  last  thou^^ht,  waking:  or 
sleeping.     Hark  !  he  calls  her  now  !  " 

The  restless  invalid  murmured. 

"  Minnie  !  darling  !  come,  kiss  me  ere  I  go."  After  a  little  time, 
he  whispered  hoarsely,  "  Free,  Minnie,  Free  !  Farewell  !  " 

Claude  Lambelle's  sympathetic  nature  yearned  towards  his  suffer- 
ing charge —  the  brother  of  Zafiiri  by  blood.  Tears,  manly  and 
Christ-like,  dropped  from  his  eyes.  He  longed  to  tell  Fred  Warham 
a  brother's  hand  was  smoothing  his  pillow;  and  that  in  Zaffiri,  a 
sister's  love  would  embrace  his  precious  Minnie,  and  soothe  her 
widowed  grief.  Too  late  now  !  Once,  it  would  have  been  danger- 
ous to  her. —  now  it  would  be  dangerous  to  hi77iy  to  confide  the  awful 
truth. 

"  Thank  God  there  will  be  no  fugitives  in  Heaven  ! "  he  mur- 
mured with  a  sigh. 

The  awakening  was  favorable.  Strength  had  returned.  The 
pulses  throbbed  calmly.     The  flame  of  life  burned  less  fitfully. 

"  I  am  a  new  man  under  your  care  ! "  said  Fred.  "  You  have 
attended  me  with  the  assiduity  of  a  brother  !  Ten  thousand  thanks. 
I  cannot  requite  my  obligations."  » 

"  Accept  all  as  the  spontaneous  offerings  of  a  brother's  love,  with- 
out obligations  ;  that  will  set  us  both  right,"  replied  Mr.  Lambelle. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  637 

Fred  Warham  turned  conversation  again  to  the  engrossing  sub- 
ject of  Minnie  and  his  children, 

"  I  shall  will  them,"  he  said,  and  through  the  same  attorney, 
twenty  thousand  dollars  —  ten  thousand  for  dear  Minnie,  and  five 
thousand  a-piece  for  my  boys.  May  I  ask  that  this  dower  be_  con- 
signed to  your  care,  in  trust  for  them  ;  that  you  take  charge  of  its  in- 
vestment; my  ]Minnie  cannot  at  present  manage  monetary  affairs." 

"  I  shall  be  most  happy  to  gratify  any  wish  of  yours ;  not  only 
for  the  friendship  and  respect  I  bear  you,  but  on  behalf  of  the 
esteem  and  regard  of  my  wife,  which  she  first  conceived  for  you 
in  St.  Louis,  and  has  cherished  ever  since." 

"Your  wife!  your  lovely  and  angelic  Zaffiri!" 

A  smile  irradiated-the  wan  features.  "  In  health,  courtesy  would 
have  dictated  a  mention  of  her  first,  and  would  have  dilated  upon 
the  extreme  pleasure  I  experienced  in  meeting  her  in  Europe  at 
the  summit  of  'Weissenstein,'  where  I  was  staying  for  the  fresh  air, 
and  the  '  cure  de petit  lait '  —  goats  whey,  recommended  for  invalids. 
She  was  accompanied  by  a  traveling  compannion,  a  nun-like  lady 
whom  she  called  Mary.  Afterwards,  during  last  winter,  they  found 
me  in  Naples,  where  they  both  tended  me  like  Sister's  of  Charity. 
I  should  have  mentioned'  this  before ;  for,  believe  me,  sir,  my  heart 
is  filled  with  the  grateful  remembrance.  But  conversation  fatigues 
me,  and  I  suppose  she  has  written  you  the  particulars."^ 

"  She   has    done    so,   with   many  expressions   of   grief  for   your 

malady." 

"  It  was  at  her  suggestion  that  I  repose  this  trust  in  you,  sir. 
She  knows  I  am  to  free  some  slaves;  but  understands  nothing  of 
our  relations.  She  is  to  spend  the  summer  in  Canada.  I  wished 
to  engage  her  sympathy  in  dear  Minnie's  sorrows ;  but  I  could  not 
venture  the  attempt  to  interest  an  accomplished  and  high-bred  lady 
in  th^  fortune  of  a  slave.  And  yet,  from  Zaffiri's  sisterly  watchings 
with  me,  I  was  half  convinced  that  she  would  condescend  to  love 
and  pity  Minnie,  for  my  sake. 

"  Minnie  will  be  a  stranger  in  this  great  city,  and  a  stranger  in 
Canada.  Alone,  and  without  my  protection,  she  will  be  like  a 
frightened  dove,  driven  from  the  cote." 

"  Would  it  be  a  satisfaction  to  have  Minnie  attached  to  our 
family,  sir?"  questioned  Mr.  Lambelle. 


^ 


638  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

"  Not  as  a  menial,  my  friend.  She  has  been  reared  tenderly, 
and  will  have  means  to  rise  above  low  labor.  I  think  she  would 
delight  to  engage  in  the  capacity  of  dressing-maid,  or  housekeeper, 
under  the  eye  of  Zaffiri." 

''Mr.  Warham,  my  dear  friend,  you  misapprehend  my  intent. 
]\rinnie  will  be  free  to  choose  for  herself.  She  might  prefer  some 
light  offices  ;  but  I  spoke  more  especially  in  reference  to  her  com- 
panionship for  my  wife.  Her  little  Italian  servant,  Cossetina,  has 
married  a  young  Italian  and  made  a  home  in  her  native  land.  Mary, 
her  traveling  companion,  has  friends  in  New  England,  and  will  re- 
turn to  them.  Minnie  and  her  two  children  would-  engage  Zaffiri's 
attention  and  love." 

"  That  will  be  most  asrreeable,"  said  Fred. 

"Then,  I  beseech  you  to  lay  aside  every  anxious  thought  for  the 
happiness  of  her  v;ho  has  been  to  you  lover  and  wife.  Do  not 
diminish  further  the  physical  strength  you  need  so  much  for  the 
remainder  of  the  journey." 

Mr.  Lambelle  accompanied  Fred  to  the  steamer,  supporting  him 
at  every  step.  He  bore  him,  in  his  arms,  up  the  long  gang-way, 
and  placed  him  in  a  hammock,  swung  on  deck,  which  he  had  per- 
sonally ordered  as  a  surprise.  He  had  sent  aboard  the  rarest 
wines,  and  most  delicious  fruits  New  York  afforded.  He  remained 
by  the  hammock  with  cheerful  and  encouraging  words,  till  the  sten- 
torian "  All  Aboard  !  "  warned  him  to  depart. 

The  all-absorbing  subject  came  to  Fred's  lips. 

"  Tell  you  lovely  Zaffiri  that  I  have  loved  Minnie ;  perhaps  she 
will  deign  to  love  her,  also." 

In  the  hurry  and  din  of  loosing  from  the  qua}^  amidst  painful 
thoughts,  struggling  with  dissembled  cheerfulness,  they  took  their 
last  farewell. 

The  devoted  husband  turned  his  steps  quickly  towards  Montreal, 
where  he  was  soon  to  meet  his  still  exiled  wife.  With  the  aid  of 
March  Haywood,  alias  Paul  Snow,  summoned  to  his  assistance,  a 
gray  stone  house,  in  the  Upper  Town,  was  furnished  with  Aladdin- 
like celerity.  Luxurious  comfort,  and  expensive  elegance  adorned 
its  apartments.  Spacious,  and  almost  palatial,  it  v/as  well  adapted 
to  the  generous  hospitality  anticipated  by  its  occupants.  Paul  was 
installed  generalissima  of  the  establishment,  and  bore  his  honors 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  39 

with  the   affable  dignity  of  his  high-born  nature      Ckude   passed 
one  month  of  undisturbed  domestic  enjoyment  with  Zathri,  ana 

"t'c  l^fZ^n'oi    the   second  month  brought  him   back  with 
Mhinieand  the  children.     Zaffiri  received   her   with  open   arms  ; 

ve    the  distance  of    caste  between  them  was  gently,  bat  rigidly 

Wintainel  by  Minnie.     She  delighted  in  serving   the  distress   as 

het  rmed  z'affiri,  never  venturing  the  P-'7  ^'f '"",  \,„^^' ^ 

would  dress  the  long,  fair  hair  ;  the  l=;"P°'^^°f,.^f  ^^f*  ^  ,'„V™"  it 
waken  to  a  gleaming  admiration,  while  plaitmg  and  arranging 

"'h  her  bSful  boys,  radiant  with  childish  glee,  made  their  w.y 
it  f  ^^  ^^f ""■''..,   ;,'    u  ^^ettv  ladv "   who   welcomed  them  with 
kifsefanrboni:  s       innie'ld!  in',  begging  pardon,  and  smilingly 
withdrew  them,  lest  they  should  trespass  upon  the  lady  s  pleasure 

This  oatient  and  humble  deference  disquieted  Zaffii  i.     Mie  iongea 

,o  b  H i^Minnie  nearer  to  her  own  heart.     She  longed  to  break  that 

as^fetfe^of  bondage  which  had  not   been   included  in   Minme  s 

d'e'd' of "  eldom.     Ihe  longed  to  dash  away  the  -PO    Caste  w^^^^^^ 

Minnie  had  so  ™eek|^  P-ente    to    -  ;ps.     She -^'e  the  resoU_e. 

X^:SvT"Hl^he'b:r™r:llgttTittle  Frld  Warham,  who  stepped 

into  the  room  with  the  air  of  a  prince. 

°Ah  I  Zaffiri's  little  page  will  call  mamma,"  she  said  k  ndly. 

In  a  few  moments,  Minnie  and  Zaffiri  were  seated  together. 

"Banish  Sam  dear  Minnie !  I  am  going  to  shorten  this  caste 
distance  vvhtfheiists  between  us.  It  would  be  cruel  to  maintain 
ft  TdavC  o-er  I've  a  secret  to  break  to  your  astonished  ear. 
Minn£^y  four  Carolina  marriage  with  Frederick  Warham,  I - 
Zvour  —  sister      Frederick  Waiham  was  »y  ^r^J//«-/ 

A~slrange,  inquiring  look  was  the  only  reply.  Amazement  al- 
most  paralyzed  Minnie. 


640  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  It  is  true,"  repeated  Zaffiri ;  "  and  here  I  will  prove  the  rela- 
tion which  surely  binds  us  to  a  mutual  affection.  I  am,  moreover, 
a  slave,  Minnie.  You  are  free !  I  am  still  in  bondage  by  the  laws 
of  our  Republic  —  subject  to  the  snares  of  its  man-hunters  ;  if  iden- 
tified in  the  States,  I  could  be  taken  back  in  irons  to  Charleston,  to 
serve  a  master  the  rest  of  my  life  !  " 

Minnie  roused  at  last,  threw  her  arms  about  her,  and  said  ten- 
derly,— 

"  Oh,  no,  dear  lady !  You  have  been  seized  with  sudden  ill- 
ness !  your  reason  is  affected !  take  your  bed,  and  allow  me  to  call 
a  physician ! " 

"No,  Minnie  ;  my  brain  is  not  turned.^  I  know  whereof  I  speak. 
The  story  is  long  —  listen,  and  you  will  believe." 

Zaffiri  took  up  the  thread  of  her  narrative,  gave  the  proofs  of  her 
birth,  sale,  flight  through  the  aid  of  Father  Weintze,  the  purchase 
of  her  old  nurse  in  New  Orleans ;  nor  did  she  give  up  the  clew,  till 
she  had  traced  it  to  the  certainty  of  her  affirmation. 

"  Minnie,  do  you  doubt  my  sanity,  now  .<*  "  she  asked,  weeping 
tears  of  ano^uish  at  the  remembrance  of  her  wrono:s.  '*  Do  vou 
doubt  the  relationship  between  Fred  Warham  and  myself — that 
we  were  brother  and  sister .'*  You  were  his  wife,  Minnie;  am  I  not 
sister  to  you,  also.?  " 

"I  cannot  doubt  it,  dear  lady." 

"  Hush,  Minnie !  do  not  address  me  with  that  subservient  title. 
The  difference  between  us  is  but  in  complexion,  and  you  are  more 
beautiful  than  I.     Come  to  the  mirror,  Alinnie.     Let  that  decide." 

With  one  arm  around  her  waist,  Zaffiri  drew  her  unwilling  steps 
before  a  full  length  glass,  saying, — 

"  Look  up,  Minnie.  Your  rich  brown  color  gives  me  a  sickly 
pallor.  Your  jet  black  curls  make  my  pale  hair  look  faded.  The 
deep  damask  of  your  cheeks  and  lips  give  mine  a  half-ripened  ap- 
pearance. And  my  eyes!  like  shaded  wood  violets!  How  do 
they  compare  with  the  tropical  softness  of  yours !  so  dark,  velvety 
brown.  Minnie,  you  are  a  living  picture  to  me.  No  marvel  that 
Fred  Warham  loved  you  !  And,  if  he  loved  you,  cannot  //  Can- 
not I  love  my  brother's  children  }  Are  they  not  my  nephews  by 
consanguinity  1  Teach  them  to  call  me  auntie,  and  teach  yourself 
to  call  me  Zaffiri.     Give  me  a  sister's  love." 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  64 1 

"  My  dear  Fred  knew  nothing  of  this,  or  he  would  have  confided 
in  me  ! "  exclaimed  Minnie. 

"  He  knew  nothing  ;  we  dared  not  trust  a  Southerner  with  my 
liberty.  We  will  make  future  amends  for  that  distrust  of  Fred,  to 
you,  dear  Minnie,  and  to  his  children." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

TN  July,  Zaffiri  gave  Paul  carte  blanche  for  furnishing  other 
chambers  and  making  festive  preparations  for  a  New  England 
house-warming,  early  in  August.  She  explained  to  him  that  the 
intent  of  the  phrase  was  a  merry-making  by  the  friends  of  a  family 
who  enter  a  new  house. 

"  Cause  the  upholsterer  to  copy  the  red  and  blue  rooms,"  she 
said  ;  "the  rest  I  leave  to  your  care.  Have  a  supervision  over  all, 
Paul,  and  I  shall  be  content." 

Mary  spent  most  of  the  following  day  with  Zafhri,  in  the  seclu- 
sion of  her  chamber.  Both  were  busy  with  their  needles,  consult- 
ing chiefly  upon  Mary's  future. 

"  So,  after  the  reunion  and  hilarity  of  the  house-warming,  you 
will  leave  me,  Mary.  After  three  years  of  travel  and  closest  inti- 
macy, I  shall  miss  you  more  than  words  can  express  ;  and  yet,  if  I 
knew  you  were  to  change  the  loneliness  of  your  long  widowhood 
for  the  companionship  offered  you,  I  could  see  you  depart  with  a 
degree  of  satisfaction." 

"  You  have  the  same  desire  for  my  marriage  with  Mr.  Link,  that 
Filette  and  George  have  expressed  without  reserve  in  their  corre- 
spondence with  me  during  the  last  year.  But,  my  dear  ZafBri,  I 
ask  you  if  a  companionship  without  love  could  be  more  desirable 
than  that  of  one's  ordinary  friends  ? " 

"Without  love!  Mary.?  Those  words  have  a  doubtful  import. 
You  certainly  hold  Mr.  Link  in  highest  esteem  for  his  long- tried 
integrity,  for  his  Christian  sympathy  with  the  suffering  and  op- 
pressed, and  for  his  persistent,  unselfish  interest  in  Thad.  Esteem 
easily  ripens  into  that  quality  of  love  which  must  distinguish  your 
age  and  his.     You  could  never  feel  again  the  romantic,  half  bewil- 


642  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

dering  sentiment  once  cherished  for  your  first  and  only  youthful 
lover,  James  Buddington." 

At  the  mention  of  that  name,  Mary's  mournful  eyes  dropped. 

"My  poor,  murdered  James!"  she  ejaculated.  "So  ignomini- 
ously  murdered  !  My  life's  happiness  was  buried  in  his  grave." 
Her  misty  vision  and  trembling  fingers  refused  guidance  to  the 
needle.  "Oh!  it  seems  sacrilege  —  like  breaking  vows  to  consent 
to  a  second  marriage." 

"  Mary,  far  be  it  from  me  to  reccommend  any  course  to  you 
which  could  cast  a  shadow  of  unfaithfulness  upon  the  memory  of 
James.  You  could  not,  if  you  would,  yield  to  Mr.  Link  the  affec- 
tion betowed  on  him.  Mr.  Link  would  not  ask  it.  He  asks  only 
that  you  share  his  house,  its  luxuries  and  comforts;  that  you  give 
to  him  what  your  bruised  heart  has  to  offer  of  friendship  and  re- 
gard. He  asks  the  privilege  and  right  by  marriage  to  brighten 
your  sad  life  by  a  love  which  we  all  know  is  devotion  itself.  He 
does  not  require  what  you  cannot  confer.  Reflect,  Mary,  what  he 
has  done  for  you  already. 

"  He  has  built  a  stylish,  commodious  house,  he  has  had  his 
grounds  laid  out  under  the  eye  of  a  gardener,  its  parterres,  fragrant 
with  flowers,  await  your  coming  ;  he  has  planted  rare  shrubs  and 
shade  trees.  Besides,  he  has  purchased  an  elegant  carriage,  the 
finest  in  town.  I  am  sure  he  would  not  have  made  these  prepara- 
tions without  the  encouragement  of  George  and  Filette.  They 
judge  it  would  be  better  attained  in  a  home  of  your  own  encircled 
by  the  deep  and  unobtrusive  love  of  Mr.  Link,  than  by  a  contiu- 
ance  in  their  numerous  and  noisy  family  of  children." 

•'  I  do  need  and  desire  quiet  for  the  remainder  of  my  life, 
Zaffi;i  ;  but  I  must  not  seek  it  in  forbidden  places." 

"  W'hv  is  the  beautiful  home  of  Mr.  Link  forbidden,  Marv  ?  It 
seemed  to  me  that  his  letter  to  you  offering  himself  and  his  pos- 
sessions, was  a  scroll  let  down  from  the  skies  by  a  Divine  hand, 
presenring  to  your  tortured  spirit  an  asylum  of  sweet  peace  and 
content.  Vviiere  is  that  letter,  Mary.?  Let  us  read  it  together. 
Let  my  pleading  be  secondary  to  his." 

Mary  left  the  room,  smiling  at  Zafiiri's  tenacity —  and  returning 
gave  the  letter  to  her  friend,  who  said  cheerfully, — 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK    JUNE.  643 

"  Leave  the  sewing,  Mary,  listen  while  I  read." 

"  Cloiidspire,  Mass,,  Jjine  30,  185  — 

"Mrs.  Mary  BuDDiNGTON, — My  Dear  Friend, —  If  this  letter  and  its 
object  prove  an  unliappy  intrusion  upon  your  attention,  I  here  at  the  commence- 
ment, beg  pardon  ;  a  favor  which  I  beh'eve  will  be  kindly  granted,  I  will  write 
without  ambiguity;  for  I  do  not  think  the  love  one  bears  another  on  earth 
necessitates  hesitation  or  evasion.  I  have  discovered,  during  our  years  of  social 
intercourse,  and  especially  during  your  long  absence  in  Europe,  the  gentle,  but 
unyielding  sway  you  unconsciously  hold  over  my  hopes  and  happiness. 

"  Thoughts  of  you  mingle  with  all  my  purposes  —  thoughts  of  our  possible 
future  companionship  ;  thoughts  of  your  dear  presence  in  my  house,  at  my 
lonely  table,  and  among  my  garden  walks.  Unworthy  as  I  am,  1  venture  to 
offer  you,  dear  Mary,  all  these  with  my  first  and  undivided  affections.  1  have 
thought  that  domestic  interests  in  what  was  your  own  —  in  the  oversight  of  a 
quiet  h«me  —  your  health  and  some  degree  of  lighted-hearted  enjoyment  might 
return  to  your  grieved  life. 

"  My  sister  expresses  her  attachment  to  you,  and  should  the  crowning  wish 
of  my  desolate  manhood  be  realized,  she  will  welcome  your  coming  with  a  glad- 
some and  tender  affection. 

"I  have  no  more  to  write,  but  I  close  this  letter  with  a  painful  distrust  of 
consequences.  Take  time,  dear  Mary,  to  reflect.  I  shall  come  to  Montreal 
with  the  party  of  friends  in  August.  Then  1  will  learn  from  your  lips,  the  con- 
clusion.    Your  will  shall  be  mine. 

"  I  am  yours  with  deepest  respect. 

"  SiiMON  Link." 

"  There  Mar}'-,"  said  Zaffiri,  "is  not  that  letter  beautiful,  tender, 
and  considerate  t  We  all  love  Mr.  Link,  why  should  not  you  .? 
My  Claude  loves  him,  and  will  have  his  company  in  New  York, 
weeks  at  a  time.  He  says  we  have  never  had  a  more  gentlemanly 
guest  in  our  house.  What !  grateful  tears  ?  As  I  told  you.  Es- 
teem and  gratitude,  then  love.  Mary,  do  not  hesitate  longer. 
Decide  to-day,  and  let  us  talk  over  preparations  ;  allow  me  to  write 
Filette  to-morrow,  of  your  consent  that  Mr.  Link  may  make  one 
delightful  journey  to  Canada." 

"  How  can  I  take  off  this  mourning  which  I  have  worn  for  so 
many  years,  Zaffiri  t  " 

"  Dress  in  gray  and  white,  Mary,  for  the  rest  of  your  days. 
Gray  and  white  are  simplicity  itself ;  at  all  events  if  you  remain 
single,  I  should  advise  you  to  relinquish  those  sombre  externals 
you  have  worn  so  long.  I  believe  you  are  already  decided  in  Mr. 
Link's  favor.     Confess   at  once.     Let  me  be  happy.     Let    Claude 


644  WHITE    MAY,    AND    ELACK    JUNE. 

and  I  arrange  the  wedding  here  with  all  our  friends  present. 
Claude  and  I  will  stand  with  you  at  the  ceremony,  and  you  shall 
go  back  from  Europe  to  your  own  charming  home." 

She  threw  her  work  upon  the  carpet  and  knelt  before  Mary,  fix 
ing  her  blue  eyes  upon  her,  gleaming  with  sunny  light. 

"  Be  married  here  for  my  sake,"  she  plead,  "  on  the  last  day  of 
the  house-warming.  Minnie  and  I  will  make  you  a  lovely  bride. 
Let  Claude  do  something  for  you,  who  have  done  so  much  for 
me." 

She  drew  the  thoughtful  brow  down  to  her  lips  and  whispered, — 

''  Take  this  golden  cup  that  Heaven  offers.  Two  separate  con- 
genial lives  will  blend  in  one.     Shall  it  be  so,  Mary  ?" 

"Itshall  be  so,  Zaffiri." 

"  Shall  Mr.  Link  receive  his  life's  best  gift  here  in  the  house  of 
the  exile,  Mary? " 

"If  it  please  you,  blessed  one." 

"  Shall  I  write  to  Filette,  to-morrow  ? " 

"You  may  write." 

The  first  week  in  August  filled  the  gray  stone  house  with  affec- 
tionate greetings  and  festive  cheer.  George  and  Filette,  Richard 
and  Lucy,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sterlingworth,  and  Mr.  Link,  saw  again 
their  beloved  ideal  of  womanhood,  their  model  of  refined  elegance, 
and  their  per.onification  of  angelic  charity.  Zafliiri  saw  again  her 
tried  friends  endeared  by  mutual  sufferings  and  participated  joys. 
Queen  of  her  drawing-rooms,  and  attending  minutely  to  the  ease 
and  enjoyment  of  her  guests,  she  was  the  admiration  of  all. 

There  was  much  to  be  revealed  by  hostess  and  guests.  The 
progress  of  Freedom  from  the  standpoint  of  each  was  rehearsed. 
Zaffiri's  experiences  aboad  were  narrated.  Minnie  and  her  chil- 
dren were  presented,  she  as  "  My  sister^''  and  the  two  boys  as  "  My 
nephews*^  "from  South  Carolina  ;  and  the  chain  of  events  which 
brought  the  sisters  together  was  minutely  traced. 

Zaffiri's  friends  listened  with  an  intensity  of  interest  one  oi\^^ 
to  the  strangest  romance.  At  the  recital  by  Mr.  LambelleTC»xiis 
interview  with  Fred  Warham  in  New  York,  in  which  that  South- 
erner's love  for  Minnie  was  so  frankly  confessed  and  in  which  he 
so  nobly  complied  with  the  demands  of  Justice  in  arranging  for 
her  future,  tender  tears  fell  with  Minnie's,  to  the  memory  of  such 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  645 

rare  virtues  in   one  who  had  proven  himself  her  true  husband  and 
protector. 

Zaffiri  produced  the  locket  containing  an  exquisite  likeness  of 
Fred,  and  presented  to  her  as  a  souvenir  of  himself  in  Italy. 

"It  was  painted  in  Paris  by  a  distinguished  artist,"  said  ZafSri  ; 
"  and  the  locket  itself,  is  an  exquisite  work  of  art.  That  diamond 
setting  must  have  been  very  costly. 

"  What  do  you  think  my  friends/'  she  continued,  "  when  Minnie 
came  to  us  from  dear  Fred's  grave,  she  drew  from  her  bosom, 
where  she  wore  it  concealed,  the  exact  counterpart  of  my  locket, 
with  the  same  likeness  and  diamond  setting." 

"  Minnie  removed  the  chain  of  her  own  from  her  neck,  opened 
it,  and  gazed  upon  the  fine  features  with  reverent  affection.  Tear 
drops  quivered  on  her  silken  lashes  ;  she  raised  the  dear  face  to 
her  lips,  and  passed  it  to  Mrs.  Sterlingworth,  for  comparison  with 
the  other.  Heads  were  eagerly  grouped  over  both  lockets,  held 
side  by  side  in  Fanny's  hands, 

"  Precisely  alike,  Mrs.  Warham,"  said  Mr.  Sterlingworth  to 
Minnie  ;_"  you  can  have  no  better  evidence  of  Mr.  Warham 's  re- 
spectful and  sincere  attachment  to  yourself,  than  this  likeness  of 
which  Madame  Lambelle's  is  an  exact  copy.  By  this  delicate  act 
he  placed  you  on  equality  with  a  lady  whose  superior  we  think  we 
have  never  met  among  our  Anglo-Saxon  acquaintances." 

"  I  entertain,  sir,"  replied  Minnie,  sadly,  "  the  sentiment  ex- 
pressed by  the  similarity  of  these  two  precious  souvenirs ;  but  in 
all  my  life  at '  Breezy  Bluff,'  I  was  never  made  to  feel  the  least 
degree  of  inferiority,  however  just  that  infliction  might  have  been. 
Contrary  to  the  legislation  for  slaves,  I  was  in  childhood  taught  to 
read  and  write.  Mr.  Warham  read  with  me  the  works  in  his 
library ;  and  his  correspondence  with  me  by  letter,  although  under 
cover,  was  as  free  and  confiding  as  it  would  have  been  with  any 
lady  of  the  land.  I  was  not  surprised,  therefore,  that  my  locket 
equaled  dear  Zaffiri's,  in  beauty  and  expense." 

'  "^Q   you    know,  Minnie,  other   instances   of   the    Southerners 
attachment  to  slaves,  as  marked  as  yours  ? "  questioned  Filette. 

"  They  are  very  common,  Mrs.  Buddington  ;  but  cruelty  and 
affection  are  strangely  mingled.  The  slave-holder  is  often  reck- 
less in  the  management  of  his  estates,  and  a  spendthrift.     A  slave 


646  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

wife  has  no  means  to  build  up  her  master's  fortune,  and  he  turns 
to  the  surest  resources.  To  accomplish  this,  he  must  deliver  up 
the  dark  woman  he  really  loves,  to  the  slave-trader.  She  is  hur- 
ried from  her  handsomely-furnished  apartments,  from  the  kindest 
attentions,  from  the  fondest  caresses,  to  the  nearest  auction,  and 
sold  in  the  incongruous  lot ;  her  pretty  and  petted  children  going 
one  way,  and  she,  broken  hearted,  going  another." 

Every  woman's  heart  around  Minnie  uttered  a  long,  simulta- 
neous moan.     Filette  asked, — 

"  What  am  I  to  understand  by  your  words,  '  the  surest  re- 
sources? ' " 

"That  from  the  wealthy  ladies  of  the  South,  or  North,  he  mar- 
ries a  white  wife,  who  will  bring  to  him  a  fortune.  I  had  a  sister, 
fairer  than  I  am,  who  was  the  slave-wife  of  a  young  blue- blood  in 
Savannah.  He  idolized  her.  He  called  her  his  sultana,  and 
dressed  her  like  one.  He  secretly  wore  a  curl  of  her  hair  in  a 
locket.  They  had  two  or  three  beautiful  children.  He  lived  too 
fast,  and  lost  his  fortune. 

"  One  day,  he  gave  Isabel  (that  was  my  sister's  name)  and  the 
children,  a  pass  to  go  to  Charleston  to  visit  some  of  her  acquaint- 
ances. There  she  was  sold  with  her  children,  while  Mr.  Denteile 
was  on  his  way  North,  to  marry  a  rich  Philadelphian.  That  was 
the  last  I  knew  of  Isabel.  I  think  she  must  have  died  of  a  broken 
heart.  Major  Denteile  now  has  a  son,  who  about  three  years  since 
married  a  rich  Northern  young  lady,  from  Indiana.  They  were 
wintering  in  Washington.  Augustus  Denteile  was  captivated  with 
her  at  the  President's  levee.  She  was  the  belle  of  Washington. 
Fred  said  she  was  very  beautiful,  and  that  it  was  a  true  love  mar- 
riage.    Augustus  did  not  follow  the  example  of  his  father." 

"  Do  you  know,  ladies  and  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Lanibelle,  "  I 
attended  those  same  nuptials. ''  that  I  ivas  bridesman  at  the  cere- 
mony, with  an  extremely  blue-blooded  lady  of  South  Carolina  as 
bridesmaid,  a  INIiss  Fairland,  of  the  estate  with  the  high-sounding 
name,  *  Le  Grand  Palais? '  Furthermore,  I  yielded  to  ihe  plead- 
ing of  pretty  May  and  her  lover,  by  accompanying  them  to  Savan- 
nah with  ]Miss  Fairland." 

Amidst  general  laughter  and  clapping  of  hands,  the  parlors 
echoed  with  "  No  !     No  !     No  I  " 


WHITE    MAYj   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  647 

"  Yes,  indeed  !  "  replied  Zaffiri ;  "  and  Claude  says  if  I  had  not 
carried  his  heart  away  to  Italy,  it  might  have  been  stolen  by  this 
same  irresistible  maiden." 

"  I  should  say  that  was  a  dangerous  journey  into  the  lion's  lair 
for  an  abolitionist  of  the  first  water,"  exclaimed  George  Budding- 
ton. 

"  But  I  had  my  protecting  angel  along  with  me,  you  under- 
stand." 

"  Not  the  angel  of  the  Lord,  Mr.  Lambelle,"  said  Lucy.  "  Miss 
Fairland  is  endowed  with  the  opposite  qualities.  I  think  I  have 
never  witnessed  such  supercilious  contempt  of  others,  such  arro- 
gance of  bearing,  as  those  Fairlands  manifest.  They  seem  to  rise 
on  their  exorbitant  claims  to  rank  and  power,  as  on  pinions  above 
the  rest  of  humanity.  Never  in  my  experience  have  I  met  with 
such  hearts  of  stone  as  those  two  ladies  seemed  to  possess,  while 
I  was  at  '  Le  Grand  Palais.'  " 

"  I  agree  with  you,  Mrs.  Beame,  that  I  was  not  conducted  by  the 
angel  of  the  Lord  ;  but  this  angel  was  the  best  the  South  affords. 
Had  she  known  the  character  of  her  companion,  however,  she 
would  have  hurled  me  into  the  lacerating  teeth  of  those  same  roar- 
ing lions  that  everywhere  fanned  at  my  feet;  but  I  came  forth 
from  that  den  of  dead  men's  bones  with  safety,  basking  in  the 
smiles  of  my  enchantress." 

"  That  bit  of  romance  in  Miss  Fairland's  life  would  have  been 
sublimely  humiliating,  could  she  have  known  that  her  exclusive 
graces  were  lavished  upon  a  friend  of  universal  freedom  —  an 
aider  and  abettor  of  fugitives,  and  a  chief  share  holder  of  the 
Underground  Railroad,"  said  Mr.  Buddington. 

"I  declare  it  is  delightful,"  laughed  Fanny.  "Miss  Fairland 
ought  to  know  it." 

"  She  ought !  "  reiterated  all,  in  a  lively  burst  of  merriment. 

"  Not  yet,  my  friends !  "  explained  Mr.  Lambelle.  "  I  have  sev- 
eral high-handed  games  to  play  in  the  sunny  South  ;  and,  if  those 
Southerners  understood  the  address  and  artifice  that  I  wear  as  an 
armor  among  them,  they  would  tear  me  in  pieces  with  red  hot  pin- 
cers. One  might  as  well  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Spanish  Inqui- 
sition, as  to  fail  into  the  hands  of  one's  own  fellow-citizens,  in  this 
Republic." 


648  WHITE    MAY,   AND    CLACK   JUNE. 

"  That  is  too  true !  "  observed  Richard,  sorrowfully.  "  I  have 
experienced  the  tender  mercies  of  my  fellow-citizens." 

The  sharp  irony  of  Richard's  "tender  mercies '*  roused  various 
trains  of  harrowing  recolleclions.  Memory  was  castin^^  her  spec- 
tral shadows  over  the  happy  party,  enshrouding,  more  especially, 
George  Buddington  and  Mary. 

Zaffiri,  watchful  for  the  happiness  of  her  guests,  perceived  the 
wave  of  gloom  that  had  suddenly  rolled  in  upon  them,  and  adroitly 
turned  back  conversation  to  its  former  animated  flow. 

She  related  some  humorous  incidents  of  her  last  voyage  from 
Europe,  illustrating  the  "  foolishness  of  the  wise." 

'•There  were,"  she  said,  "on  board  two  Southerners,  with  their 
families;  Colonel  Haywood,  wife  and  children,  of  South  Carolina, 
also  Mr.  Sillton,  wife  and  son,  from  Mississippi.  The  Haywoods 
usually  grouped  themselves  with  the  Silltons,  as  Southerners  prefer 
to  associate  with  Southerners.  Mrs.  Haywood,  a  cold,  haughty 
lady,  bestowed  her  condescensions  chiefly  upon  Mrs.  Sillton,  al- 
though I  was  graciously  included  in  her  distribution  of  social 
favors.  There  were  also  on  board  two  passengers,  Mr.  Vassano 
and  his  daughter,  Marie,  whose  acquaintance  I  had  previously 
made.  They  were  from  Philadelphia,  and  of  colored  lineage. 
Possessing  well-bred  and  accomplished  manners,  they  made  a  wel- 
come part  of  the  social  circle.  The  father  was  often  sought  in 
conversation  by  the  Southerners. 

"Once,  I  sat  near  Colonel  Haywood,  who  was  conversing  flip- 
pantly with  these  two  passengers  on  Southern  prospects,  Southern 
wrongs,  and  the  cotton  interest.  The  father  and  daughter,  who 
had  never  denied  their  extraction  from  the  despised  race,  gave  me 
a  covert  smile,  unobserved  by  others,  signifying  the  ludicrousness 
of  the  interview.  The  conversation  turned  upon  negroes  and  the 
certainty  with  which  the  slightest  taint  of  African  blood  can  be 
detected. 

" '  I  assure  you,'  said  Colonel  Haywood  to  Mr.  Vassano,  '  I  can 
tell  a  nigger  anywhere,  if  he  is  as  white  as  I  am.  There  is  an  indi- 
cation in  the  pupil  of  the  eye  that  is  always  reliable.' 

"  '  I  have  never  learned  that  test,'  replied  Mr.  Vassano,  lifting 
his  eyes  full  upon  him.     '  I  have  always  found  sufficient   evidence 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  649 

of  color  in  the  skin  and  hair  j '  closing  his  remark  with  a  laugh,  in 
which  his  daughter  joined. 

"At  the  dancing  hour,  the  officers  of  the  steamer  vied  with  each 
other  in  obtaining  the  hand  of  the  sparkling  and  handsome  Miss 
Vassano.  Twice,  the  colonel  gallantly  offered  himself  to  Marie, 
and  was  graciously  accepted.  Mr.  Sillton  led  Mrs.  Haywood  upon 
the  floor.  On  one  of  these  occasions,  I  offered  my  hand  to  her 
father,  and  had  for  my  partner  a  gentleman  more  distingue  than 
Colonel  Haywood.  The  fancy  of  the  hour  was  cotillions.  We 
were  all  in  the  Southern  set ;  the  basket  cotillion  was  proposed, 
At  the  point  where  hands  were  locked  and  arms  intertwined,  weav- 
ing us  all  into  a  human  wreath  —  Colonel  Haywood  and  Marie 
Vassano,  Mr.  Sillton  and  Mrs.  Haywood,  the  captain  and  Mrs. 
Sillton,  Mr.  Vassano  and  myself,  I  mentally  christened  the  dance 
the  ^  JS quality  Cotillion.^ 

"I  caught  the  sparkling  eye  of  Marie.  I  understood  its  electric 
telegraphy  flashed  back  to  mine.  It  read,  ^  Behold  my  triujjiph  over 
Caste /^  Her  rich  charms  were  aglow  and  enhanced  by  the  tasteful 
elegance  of  her  attire.  She  glided  about  like  a  fairy,  the  centre  of 
admiration,  and,  by  general  applause,  the  finest  dancer  aboard. 
Often  joining  me  in  the  secresy  of  my  state-room,  she  was  forced 
to  muffle  with  her  handkerchief  her  immoderate  laughty  at  the 
ludicrous  mistakes  of  this  American  Caste.  The  echo  of  Marie 
Vassano's  derisive  laughter  filled  Zaffiri's  parlors  with  uncontroll- 
able mirth." 

"  Well,  well ! "  ejaculated  Mr.  Sterlingworth,  "  there  are  some 
features  of  oppression  enjoyable.  Who  can  appreciate  them  bet- 
ter than  we,  advocates  of  the  unpopular  Anti-Slavery  Reform  1  " 

" Mr.  Vassano's  family,"  explained  Claude,  "are  as  well  edu- 
cated as  any  Southerner's.  His  wealth  is  abundant.  Libraries 
and  works  of  art  adorn  his  home,  which  is  one  of  the  stations  of 
the  Underground  Railroad.  He  was  free  born  in  the  South,  has 
taken  a  collegiate  course  in  New  England,  and  is  an  eloquent 
speaker.  The  proof  of  his  information  on  our  political  issues  is 
the  repeated  satisfactory  conversations  which  Colonel  Haywood 
held  with  him,  on  the  passage.  The  best  qualities  of  many  bloods 
filtered   into  his  veins  —  Moorish,  English,   Jewish,  African,  and 


•650  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Southern.  His  noble  manhood  is  the  ripe  perfection  of  this  strange 
miscegenation." 

The  reader  has  seen  that  the  imperious  Colonel  Haywood  had 
really  no  prejudice  against  color.  His  love  of  Flora  and  Charlotte 
both  disproves  the  antipathy  and  contempt  which  constantly  as- 
sailed the  Northern  ear.  This  boasted  scorn  of  color  was  only  a 
manufactured  gall,  dropped  upon  the  Northern  tongue  by  South- 
ern sorcery,  that  it  might  become  infused  through  the  whole  system; 
that  it  might  embitter  and  perv^ert  the  Northern  moral  and  religious 
nature.  This  boasted  scorn  of  color  was  like  the  ink  bag  of  the 
cuttle-fish  ;  in  its  turbid  cloud  the  slave-holder  forever  swam,  lest 
the  eye  of  God  should  find  him.  The  virulence  of  disdain  towards 
African  descent,  assumed  by  the  oppressor,  was  the  blot  by  which 
he  rendered  illegible  the  Scripture  passages,  *'  God  is  no  respecter 
of  persons,"  and  "  He  hath  made,  of  one  blood,  the  nations  of 
men." 

Three  days  yet  remained  of  the  house-warming.  Another  unex- 
pected arrival  was  a  surprise  to  Zaffiri  and  Mary.  Alfy  stepped 
into  the  circle,  embracing  his  mother  with  the  devotion  of  a  lover. 
Mary  held  him  from  her  proudly,  and  scanned  his  dear  face  affec- 
tionately. 

"  Alfy,  «my  blue-eyed  boy,"  she  said,  "3'ou  have  grown  superb. 
More  than  three  years  of  manhood  have  fallen  upon  you,  during 
my  absence ;  but  are  you  well?  your  skin  is  fair  as  a  lily,  and  your 
eyes  are  like  two  spring  violets.  You  have  not  the  bronze  of 
health,    my  farmer-lad  !  " 

"  I  have  renounced  agriculture,  my  dear  mother,"  replied  Alfy, 
with  some  pride. 

"  Then  I  have  been  much  deceived.  With  whose  consent  ?  Tell 
me  all  about  it." 

She  drew  him  down  beside  her,  retaining  one  soft,  fair  hand  in 
hers,  while  her  admiring  eyes  overflowed  with  gladness. 

"  Mother,  I  have  come  to  explain,  and  to  ask  forgiveness,  if  my 
course  shall  prove  an  offense.  You  know  I  most  earnestly  desired 
to  pursue  the  law,  but  our  circumstances  forbade  the  attempt. 
After  your  departure,  Mr.  Link  proposed  to  defray  the  expense  of 
a  course  at  the  Law  School  at  Harvard  ;  and  lest  this  generosity 
should  seem  to  place  you  under  disagreeable  obligations,  he  insisted 


WHITE    MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  65 1 

that  you  should  be  kept  in  absolute  ignorance.  Uncle  George, 
Doctor  Clarendon,  and  Richard  advised  acceptance.  I  have  grad- 
uated with  the  usual  honors,  have  been  admitted  to  the  bar,  and 
am  now  attorney-at-law  in  the  office  of  an  old,  experienced  lawyer 
of  Boston.  This  partnership  was  procured  through  the  kind  offices 
of  Uncle  George.     This  lawyer  is  a  friend  of  his." 

"  How  was  your  wardrobe  supplied,  dear  boy  ?  " 

"  By  Mr.  Link,  entirely.  He  insisted  ;  and  I  was  clothed  in  as 
fine  style  as  any  student  there.  My  room  was  attractively  furnished  ; 
and  he  himself  came  to  Harvard  twice  a  year,  passing  a  week  on 
each  occasion.  I  divided  the  summer  vacations  with  him  and  Aunt 
Filette,  in  Cloudspire.  My  father  could  not  have  shown  more  lib- 
erality.    Mr.  Link  said  to  me  wdth  deep  emotion, — 

"  Alfy,  I  do  this  for  your  dear  murdered  father's  sake.  I  have 
no  children.  I  have  means,  and  they  are  yours.  Now,  my  dear 
mother,  I  have  come  as  in  childhood,  to  receive  your  rebuke,  or 
your  blessing.  I  have  obtained  a  profession  without  your  sanction, 
and  by  means  without  your  approval." 

"  Your  profession,  Alfy,  should  be  one  of  your  choice ;  one  in 
which  your  youthful  hopes  and  ambition  will  be  successful.  It 
seems  to  me  that  the  law  is  not  a  healthy  educator  in  morals,  or  in 
the  love  of  justice.  You,  my  son,  w-ill  not  frame  the  laws  ;  but 
you  will  be  the  advocate  and  interpreter  of  statutes,  many  of  which 
are  tyranical  and  unjust.  My  fear  is  that  in  the  clemency  and 
equality  we  so  much  revere,  the  acumen  of  your  righteous  judg- 
ment may  become  blunted.  Rather  than  witness  this  change  in 
my  Alfy,  I  should  prefer  to  feel  your  hands  calloused  and  bronzed 
by  the  farmer's  honest  toil,  and  to  see  your  fair  face  roughly  tanned 
by  the  sun  and  winds  of  a  laborer's  life." 

A  shadow  fell  upon  Alfy's  bright  face  at  this  imagination  of 
distrust. 

''  I  adjure  you,  mother,  the  best  and'  dearest  of  all  others,  to  trust 
my  integrity  ;  and  consider  what  events  move  me  to  array  my  ef- 
forts on  the  side  of  justice.  The  ignominious  scourging  to  his 
death,  of  a  tender  father!  Our  cruel  bereavement — the  forced 
dependence  of  our  helpless  years  !  Add  to  these  your  faithful 
teachings,  which  time  can  never  efface,  and  trust  your  Alfy  for  the 
result." 


652  WHITE    MAY,    AND   BLACK  JUNE. 


"  Then  you  have  my  blessing  and  my  proud  anticipation  of  your 
future  success." 

"  What  has  Mr.  Link,  dear  mother  ?  " 

"The  beneficent  foster-father  of  both  my  boys  has  my  truest 
gratitude." 

"Nothing  more?"  he  inquired,  with  a  troubled  light  in  his  ten- 
der eyes. 

"  Dear  Alfy,  my  answer  has  been  made  to  Mr.  Link;"  a  faint 
blush  reddening  her  pale  cheek. 

Still  doubtful  o(  the  accomplishment  of  his  heart's  most  earnest 
wish,  he  asked  timidly. 

"Shall  you  go  home  with  Aunt  Filette,  mother?  " 

Mary  hesitated,  kissed  the  hand  still  in  her  possession,  and  re- 
plied,— 

"  Alfy,  your  mother  will  go  home  with  Mr.  Link." 

The  morning  of  the  last  day  of  the  reunion  in  Canada  was  a 
happy  one  to  Zaffiri's  whole  household.  Alfy  and  Paul,  who  quickly 
became  the  best  of  friends,  made  the  parlors  and  halls  redolent 
with  floral  beauty  and  perfume.  The  table  of  Mary's  wedding  gifts 
was  laden  profusely  with  remembrances  from  the  Clarendons,  Mrs. 
Beame,  the  Glenlys,  and  from  the  "  Green  Valley  "  in  Cloudspire  ; 
there  was  a  costly  memento  from  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Snow,  and  from 
others  of  her  Connecticut  neighbors,  as  well  as  from  the  Budding- 
tons  and  Thad.  Alfy  desired  the  privilege  ot  giving  his  mother 
away,  in  the  English  marriage  service,  which  had  been  chosen  for 
the  occasion.     Mr.  Buddington  indulgently  consented. 

At  eleven  o'clock,  the  whole  household  and  numerous  guests 
were  gathered  in  the  parlors.  Every  eye  lighted  with  pleasure  and 
admiration,  when  Mary  entered  upon  the  arm  of  Alfy,  followed  by 
Mr.  Link  and  Filette. 

The  marriage  ceremony  being  concluded,  and  the  ring  being 
placed  upon  Mary's  finger,  amidst  the  congratulations  Alfy  said  to 
Mr.  Link, — 

"  For  your  unexampled  kindness  to  me,  I  have  transferred  to  you 
my  entire  earthly  possession  —  my  adored  mother." 

In  a  voice  tremulous  with  joy,  Mr.  Link  replied, — 

"  Alfy,  your  debt  is  doubly  repaid." 


WHITE  MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  653 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

PENNSYLVANIA,  sublime  in  its  Apalachian  mountain  ranges 
arand  in  the  wild  barbaric  career  ot  its  untamed  rivers  to  the 
sea  picmresque  in  the  mingling  of  nationalities    about  her  varied 
indusSes  fed-  by  the  wealth  of  her  natural   resources,  is  beauti  ul 
a"so  in  the  pastoral  attractions   of  green  valleys,  whose  secluded 

roveliness  wLld  seem  to  exclude  the  -P"!-^-'^,'^"^^:  "cti™ 
by  ambition,  covetousness,  poverty,  power,  and  political   chicanery 

in  and  about  metropolitan  centres.  _  rhanted 

To  one  of  these  charming  valleys,  an  idyl  in    itself,  and  chanted 
bv   a   poe°'s  lyre,  our  readers  are  invited.     Cultivation  in   rising 
sweUs   extended  up  the   sides   of  the  two  ranges  on  either  hana 
nea  ly   to  the  bizarre  outlines  of  their  summits  clearly  cut  against 
The  summer  sky,  so  that  this  vale  of  verdure  had  the  appearance 
of  an  e^emld  carpet  suspended  from  parallel  rows  of  peaks,   and 
:  abesque  wfth   garden,  grove,   corn-field   and  copp.ce  ;  sprink  ed 
with   abodes   of  plenty,  spires,  hamlets   and   towns.     Through  the 
a     of  this  valley  rolled    the  sparkling   Susquehanna;    a  tide  of 
animated  voices  /rom  dwellers  and   pleasure-seekers  mingled   with 
bird-carols  and  the  happy  low  of  well-kept  herds.  ,    ,  ■      , 

In  one  of  its  towns,  a  stylish  hotel  welcomed  and  entertained 
commercial  travelers,  ^nd  the  swarms  of  romantic  visitors  who 
yerrrflutter  from  place  to  place,  like  butterflies  dallying  vvnth  the 
rarest  sweets  that  Nature  offers  in  sky  and  landscape.  The  pro- 
pr  etor  Jf  th  s  caravansera  understood  the  tastes  and  desires  of  h^s 
suests  and  never  wearied  in  acceding  to  their  caprices  Many  of 
fhe  waiters,  stable-men,  and  other  superumeranes  returned  yea 
af'eryear  to  fill  their  posts  under  his  considerate  authority,  with 
the  pleasure  one  finds  in  returning  to  an  old  friend. 

In  the  season  of  which  we  write,  the  same  of  the  reunion  of  the 
friends  of  the  exiles  in  Canada,  a  new  hostler  was  added  to  the 
servants"  corps  of  the  hostlery.  He  was  rough,  burly,  and  tanned 
to  the  hue  of  many  of  the  colored  waiters  in  the  dining-room.  His 
hair  was  coarse  and  unkempt ;  his  eye  was  wary  and  sullen,  lighted 


654  WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

only  by  gleams  of  dangerous  cunning  ;  his  physiognomy  was  mas- 
sive and  rude,  like  the  face  of  a  statue  blocked  out  and  unfinished. 
He  wore  a  tarpaulin,  rings  in  his  ears,  and  loose  pantaloons,  nearly 
covering  his  huge  slippered  feet.  He  had  the  salt  phrases  and 
swing  of  a  seaman  ;  yet  this  hermaphrodite  sailor,  calling  "  yho  ! 
heave  ho !  "  to  the  horses,  performed  his  stable  duties  with  such 
punctilio  of  skill  and  dispatch  as  commended  him  to  entire  appro- 
val. He  was  a  picturesque  object  about  the  premises,  attracting 
the  attention  of  the  guests. 

Among  the  waiters  was  one  mulatto,  who  drew,  unconsciously, 
upon  himself  the  general  admiration.  He  had  a  fine,  clear  color, 
silken  hair  in  curls,  was  of  medium  height,  of  an  erect,  muscular, 
and  well-developed' figure.  His  elastic  step  moved  directly  upon 
his  purpose,  in  attending  with  unflagging  zeal  upon  the  varied  de- 
mands of  those  whom  he  served.  He  never  misunderstood,  or 
made  mistakes  at  the  crowded  tables ;  and  his  placid  equanimity 
of  temper,  and  his  unremitting  efforts  to  please,  conquered  the 
most  petulant  and  irascible.  The  gentlemen  said  among  them- 
selves, *'  He's  an  obliging  fellow ; "  and  the  ladies,  in  their  table- 
gossip,  said  of  him,  "  Oh  !  isn't  he  delightful  !  I  haven't  had  a 
cold  steak  nor  an  overdone  egg  from  his  hands  since  my  arri- 
val." 

''He  never  makes  you  wait  till  you  are  out  of  all  patience," 
added  a  second. 

"And  he  never  puts  on  airs,"  remarked  a  third.  "  I  declare  he's 
splendid." 

The  habit  of  the  new  hostler  was  not  gregarious ;  he  conversed 
more  with  his  horses  than  with  his  own  species.  The  limited  utter- 
ance in  which  he  indulged,  extended  only  to  the  white  servants. 
The  last  days  of  July  saw  a  change  in  this  moody  stranger,  from 
reticence  to  a  degree  of  sociability  extending  to  the  colored  wait 
ers.  His  favors  "were  more  especially  bestowed  upon  the  mulatto 
waiter,  of  whom  we  have  spoken.  He  hovered  about  him  as  vari- 
ous opportunities  offered,  after  the  work  of  the  day  was  over,  and 
invited  him  to  the  stables  to  inspect  some  fine  animals,  recently 
purchased. 

He  seemed  to  suffer  from  depression,  saying  to  the  waiter, — 

"  I  should  like   to  be  of  your  color  —  then  my  work  might  be 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK  JUNE.  655 

appreciated  —  here  I  get  only  curses.  Your  praise  is  in  every- 
body's  mouth." 

"  You  wouldn't  care  to  be  of  my  color,  '  Lem,'  if  you  knew  how 
my  race  is  persecuted,  hunted  and  despised." 

*'  I  don't  see  it,"  replied  Lem.  ''  I  hear  everywhere,  '  Mark  does 
this,  and  Mark  does  that.  I  gave  him  a  dollar  —  and  I  gave  him 
five,  and  I  don't  begrudge  it.'  I  should  like  to  be  hunted  that 
way." 

"  You  wouldn't  like  to  be  seized  and  carried  South  into  slavery, 
if  you'd  been  a  slave  and  got  into  the  Free  States,  would  you, 
Lem.?  Here,  only  last  week,  a  black  woman,  up  on  the  mountain, 
was  taken  out  of  her  bed  at  night,  and  carried  off  somewhere, 
nobody  knows  where,  into  slavery,  by  a  Southerner  that  called  him- 
self her  master  and  an  officer." 

"  Good  God  !  "  ejaculated  Lem.  "  You  are  not  afraid  of  being 
carried  off,  are  you  .<*     Was  you  ever  a  slave  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  afraid,"  replied  Mark.  "  I've  had  my  free  papers  a 
good  many  years.     I'm  a  free  man." 

"  That's  good  !  "  replied  Lem.  "  Good-bye  to  the  Southerners 
now!  who  set  you  free,  Mark.?  Some  kind-hearted  person,  with 
feelings.  Such  a  person,  I  guess,  don't  live  in  the  South.  It's  my 
opinion  they're  all  hard-hearted  rascals." 

Really,  Mark's  sympathies  were  awakened  for  this  ugly  waif  of  a 
hostler ;  but  a  deep  fount  of  gratitude  welled  up  to  his  lips  at  Lem's 
designation  of  his  benefactress,  as  a  kind-hearted  person,  with 
feelings.  He  did  not  let  the  opportunity  escape  of  acknowledging 
his  never-ceasing  indebtedness  for.  the  freedom  and  manhood  he 
had  so  long  enjoyed,  and  which  was  legally  secure  to  him.  He 
said,  — 

"Yes,  Lem,  a  kind-hearted  person  freed  me — a  lady.  She  did 
it  of  her  own  free  will ;  because,  as  you  say,  she  had  feelings.  My 
papers  were  made  out  South.  She  is  North  now.  Her  name  was 
Mrs.  William  Steele.  She  gave  me  her  maiden  name,  Claren- 
don." 

"  So  your  name  is  Mark  Clarendon  ?  "  inquired  Lem. 

"  No  !   my  name  is  Marquis  Clarendon." 

"  What  was  her  first  name,  Mark  ?  " 

"Lucy  —  Lucy  Clarendon,  before  marriage.     I  know  it's  Lucy, 


656  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

because  it's  on  my  free  papers,  and  because  she  writes  me  once  a 
year  to  inquire  for  me  and  my  family." 

"  It's  a  great  thing  to  be  free,"  said  Lem.  "  Where  does  this 
woman  live  ? " 

"  In  Massachusetts  —  in  the  town  of  Cloudspire." 

Lem  took  off  his  tarpaulin  with  one  hand,  and  scratched  his 
head  with  the  other,  slapped  on  his  hat  again,  and  ejaculated,  — 

"Mark,  I  know  that  woman  —  I  know  her  family.  I  have  lived 
in  Cloudspire.  Have  you  seen  her  since .''  Have  you  ever  been  in 
that  town  ? " 

"You  know  Mrs.  William  Steele,  the  lady  that  freed  me?  It 
cannot  be  possible.  No,  I  have  not  seen  her  since  the  day  we 
parted,  in  New  York ;  but  I  could  fall  on  my  knees  this  moment, 
and  thank  her  for  giving  me  myself,  — to  walk  this  earth  without  a 
master,  to  labor  where  I  choose,  and  to  possess  my  own  earnings." 

"  Well,  she's  the  same  now  as  when  you  knew  her.  She's  a 
friend  of  mine.  I've  staid  many  a  week  at  the  doctor's — Doctor 
Clarendon's,  I  mean.  They  are  all  abolitionists.  There's  another 
family  there  that  I  stay  with  a  great  deal  —  the  Buddingtons  — 
that's  my  home  where  I  stop  when  I'm  there.  I've  helped  'em  to 
carry  ten  runaway  slaves  to  Canada.  Strange,  that  you  and  I  both 
know  those  people,  Mark  !  " 

"  They  were  sitting  on  the  steps,  at  the  end  of  a  long  row  of 
kitchens  and  store-rooms.  Lem  stood  up  on  his  huge  slippered 
feet,  about  to  go. 

"  I  want  to  inquire  about  them,"  said  Mark.  "  Come  up  to  my 
room  to-morrow  night,  Lem.  This  is  the  best  news  I've  had  this 
long  time." 

"I'll  come,  if  I  can  get  away  from  that  stable."  A  foxy  gleam 
shot  from  his  eyes,  but  its  aim  was  not  towards  Mark.  "I'll  tell  ye, 
Mark,  I  want  to  see  your  free  papers,  so  I  can  tell  Lucy  I've  seen 
them,  when  I  go  back  to  see  'em  this  fall.  Have  you  got  'em  in 
your  trunk  ? " 

"  Yes,  Lem ;  I  carry  them  wherever  I  go.  Be  sure  and  come 
up.-    You  shall  see  my  deed  of  myseif." 

Lem  went  to  the  barn,  and  Mark  to  his  dining-rooms. 

Less  than  a  week  after,  Lem  came  to  i\Iark  in  a  tumult  of  vexa- 
tion, inquiring  the  names  of  those  two  men  who  arrived  last  night. 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  657 

«Thev  have  been  out  to  the  barn,  looking  at  the   horses  and 
iney  "^^^..^''''''  ^^      v  ^  i    •„  .he  reo-ister,  Mark,  and  tell  me 
thev  treat  me  like  a  dog.     -L,ook  in  cne  rc^isi^  ,        ^^ 

this  mSntog  U  b,«k(a.t.    Bat  III  M  *"'  =«-'  ■'  >»"  ■>•»" 

tothefloor      For  a  moment  he  was  bhnded.  ^^^^  ^  ^^^_^ 

Mfheld  ;rthe^floor.  '^  HeC°  d  their  fierce,  and  hurried  voices,- 

H"e"LTn":"thr'o;'rise.     One  was  already  fastened 

"■'ffis'^braTn  deared     With  superhuman  strength  he  tore  himself 
His  bram  cieareu.      yvxi         i;,  .   knocking  his  assailants 

Thpv   rau<^ht  him  by  his    clothes.     ±ie  leic  uicm  m 

riar  d   upon\Tm,  and   pistols  brandished   about  h>m       He  st.U 
Lghtwi?h  the  courage  and  strength  of^a  ho. 

coherent  ^l^^]  ,?V'^l':^,-„  ,,\:l,  v^sZt  the  nigger  !""  Pre- 
nr^o7krer  "fouthe™   assassins!"    mingled    wuh    the 
screams  ^f  servants  and  ladies  in  a  demoniac  symphony,  filled  the 
■   hall  and  rang  out  into  the  streets.  j 

Above  this  diabolical  jargon,  floated  ^fnst  of  a  terrible  combat 
mellow  voice,  like  the  torn  colors  in  the  midst  of  a  terrible 

"  Death  or  Victory ! "  ,        ,,        „„  j    „f    ,1,0  hall   shouted 

Half  a  dozen  voices  from  the  other  end  of   the  hall  snou 

cheerino^ly,^"" 

L^tlere^d^t  s^lrdS'lnd  closing  it  behind  him,  barred 


658  WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

it  with  his  body.  In  a  flash,  a  stranger's  iron  grasp  hurled  him 
headlong  upon  the  floor,  and  opened  the  door.  Mark,  panting, 
bleeding,  nearly  naked,  rushed  through,  like  a  deer — bounded  to 
the  river,  and  plunged  in.  Neek  deep,  and  facing  the  shore,  he 
awaited  his  pursuers.  On  they  came,  Haywood,  Fairland,  and  the 
deputy-marshal.  On  came  the  crowd,  men,  women,  and  children  ; 
clerks,  drivers  and  mechanics.  Emotions  of  every  kind  moved 
the  crowd  —  anger,  pity,  fear  and  horror. 

"Fellow-citizens,"  said  Colonol  Haywood,  "I  am  pursuing  a 
course  of  right  and  justice.  That  negro  is  my  slave — I  have 
owned  him  for  years.  By  the  laws  of  the  United  States  he  is  my 
property.     His  name  here,  is  Marquis  Clarendon." 

He  took  from  his  pocket  the  papers  legally  prepared  for  his  ar- 
rest, and  read  them  aloud  to  the  by-standers. 

"He  escaped  from  '  Vaucluse,'  my  plantation  in  South  Carolina, 
in  1 85 1.  He  waited  upon  me  in  my  boyhood.  I  took  him  to 
France  with  me,  and  brought  him  back.     Fellow-citizens " 

At  this  point,  cries  of  "  No  !  no  !  no  !  not  fellow-citizens  with 
Southern  assassins  !  "  made  an  unpleasant  interruption.  Colonel 
Haywood  hesitated.  He  looked  round  upon  the  burning  indigna- 
tion that  seemed  ready  to  fall  upon  himself  and  companions,  and 
was  awed.     But  he  heard  the  words, — 

"  Go  on  !   you're  right !  " 

Several  gentlemen  approached  him  with  hats  raised,  with  bows, 
and  subservient  smiles.     Thus  encouraged,  he  continued, — 

"That  negro  is  my  property.  Mine  by  the  Bible,  mine  by  the 
Constitution,  that  unmistakable  guaranty  of  Southern  Rights  !  " 

A  growl  of  disgust  and  warning  was  his  answer. 

"Lem,"  called  Mark,  "Go  to  my  trunk,  and  bring  my  free  pa- 
pers.    Let  the  people  read  for  themselves  !  " 

"  Go  !  "   said  Fairland,  in  a  low  tone. 

Lem  ran  back  to  the  hotel  with  the  alacrity  a  dog  shows  his 
master.  He  returned  immediately,  shouting  before  he  reached  the 
shore  in  his  harsh  voice, — 

"  No  free  papers  there  !     No  free  papers  there !  " 

His  answer  was  an  exasperated  growl  from  the  spectators  in  one 
voice, — 

''Stolen!    Stolen!    Stolen!'' 


WHITE  MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  659 

Mark  raised  his  arms  to  the  sky  in  despair,  moaning  the  words 

water  and  thundered, —  ^^ 

::8re  m':^«^::;rsarMark.     "I  can  carry  two  or  three 

'".'^CotageT  Mark  !  stay  where  you  are  -  "shouted  the  crowd. 

"Fire  !  "  liowled  Haywood  through  his  teeth 

Fairiand  and  Haywood  f  charged  their  revolve  s  at^tl.rst^^^^ 
gering  victim.     From  his  forehead  fell  a  showe   ot  f"     ' 
b^Ltt^^r^^^^^o^^  t 'lo^ng  lines  on  the 

"indications  not  to  be  misunderstood  warned  the  hunters  to  look 
for  their  own  safety.     They  withdrew  for  a  conference.     Lem  fol- 

'°"tlonel  Haywood,"  f^^l'dfeLeTofV^e  "^'rn^erTap- 
tfttt  '^fS  S?  )^^icTnion  is  stronger  than  X;ncle 
Sam,  here!     Where's  that  devil  s  free  papers  ^^.^^ 

,:^-\^^%^^'^^'<^^  "-^'  ---'^  -' 

^'>"m  rXtf-^eTaidto  Lem -lighted  another  match  set  the 
papers  in  fames,  threw  them  blazing  upon  the  ground,  and  ground 
their  ashes  into  the  soil,  with  his  boot  -apturing   that  black 

wo;L"id\rtwo''Si'i:^t;k,rm^'he  luntain   up 

^°"  No>  chimed  in  the  deputy-marshal    swinging  his  club  to  and 

-ajtdy:?:;- s  r?  takH  £^Ti^rs.^ 

"ke's  safe  now  in  my  ^^f'f ^^^/.'i,,  ^,^3^  over- 

Fairland,  "and   I'm  remunerated^ for  the  loss  01  ix 

seer  Bill  Steele's  time,  years  ago. 


66o  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

"  More  than  remunerated,"  said  Haywood.  Those  two  chil- 
dren will  more  than  compensate  you  for  the  loss  of  Rachel's 
labor." 

"We  took  that  woman  in  the  night,  sir,"  ventured  Lem  to  Hay- 
wood. "  If  we  lose  Mark,  can't  I  hunt  you  up  another  nigger  in 
some  other  place  .<*  " 

"I  don't  intend  to  pay  you  fifty  dollars  for  this  job!"  replied 
Colonel  Haywood  sourly.  "  Go  away  from  here,  secure  me  an- 
other, and  you  shall  have  a  hundred.  Deputy,  do  you  hear  ?  put 
a  hundred  dollars  for  Lem  into  the  bill  against  the  United  States 
Treasury,  when  this  hostler  here  secures  me  another." 

"  I  shall  do  so,  sir,"  replied  the  marshal.  ^'  On  that  condition 
had  we  not  better  leave  this  place !  their  eyes  glare  on  us  like 
tigers." 

"  Not  tigers,"  resumed  Fairland.  "  Like  panthers  —  they  fear 
our  revolvers.     They  are  only  waiting  to  trap  us  by  stealthiness." 

Colonel  Haywood  turned  hi's  eyes  to  the  shore  and  ejaculated 
with  unmitigated  rage, — 

"  Damn  him  !  he's  come  out  of  the  water.     Let  us  see  !  " 

''  He  lies -on  the  ground  !  "  said  the  marshal ;  "  he  has  come  out 
to  die.     Dead  niggers  are  not  wanted  South." 

"  No  !  they  are  raising  him  up  and  putting  on  pants.  I'll  have 
him  yet.     Come  on,  marshal." 

They  rushed  back  to  the  almost  dying  man,  and  presented 
their  revolvers.  In  a  twinkling  he  was  in  the  river  again  at  his 
former  depth. 

"  I'll  die  here,"  he  said  faintly. 

The  ruffians  dared  not  send  another  bullet  after  him.  Affairs 
grew  ominous ;  hurrying  groups  went  up  the  street  and  returned. 
Other  groups  whispered  with  rapid  gesticulation ;  threatening 
glances  flashed  on  the  posse.  The  three  bandits  strode  off  to  the 
hotel,  and  when  the  supper-gong  sounded  they  had  absconded, 
with  Lem  added  to  their  number. 

Marquis,  pallid,  bloody,  and  haggard,  waved  his  arm  to  his 
friends  on  shore,  to  retire.  They  understood,  and  slowly  left  him, 
lingering  till  he  waded  round  a  bend  of  the  river,  and  was  hidden 
from  view. 

About  the  middle  of   the  afternoon,  when  the  glorious  sunlight 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  66 1 

was  cradled  in  that  beautiful  valley,  its  sheeny  splendor  reflected 
from  river  and  swell,  while  a  shuddering  horror  still  shook  the 
hearts  of  those  who  had  witnessed  that  brigand  raid  of  the  morn- 
ing upon  the  life  and  liberty  of  a  citizen,  while  the  Susquehanna 
was  bearing  its  crimson  stains  far  down  its  babbling  channel,  while 
the  blood-hounds  were  turning  back  to  their  kennels,  Marquis  lay 
insensible  upon  the  ground  in  a  corn-field,  into  which  he  had 
dragged  himself,  and  fallen. 

How  long  he  had  been  there  no  one  knew,  but  as  the  merciful 
God  ordered,  three  good  Samaritans  entered  the  field  at  the  same 
time,  but  in  opposite  directions.  Each  recognized  the  other  as 
having  been  at  the  river  bank. 

One  was  the  stranger  who  had  hurled  Lem  Hamm  from  the 
door  at  the  hotel  — young  and  finely  dressed.  The  second  was  a 
middle-aged  mechanic,  and  the  third  was  a  neatly-clad  colored 
man,  quite  black. 

"  Have  you  seen  any  trace  of  him  ? "  said  the  stranger  to  the 
black  man  who  was  coming  up  from  the  river. 

"  I'm  on  his  track  now,  sir.     Here's  blood  on  the  corn  and  the 

ground." 

They  traced  the  clue  together  and  found  him.  The  other,  the 
mechanic,  came  up  from  the  road  ;  they  gazed  with  dismay  upon 
the  wreck  of  Marquis,  lying  between  the  corn  hills.  His  fine  hair 
was  stiff  with  gore  and  sand ;  a  red  pool  had  dripped  from  his 
wounded  shoulder  to  the  ground  by  his  side.  He  had  on  no  shirt, 
and  the  hand-cuff  lield  its  grip  on  his  right  wrist.  Dark  red,  con- 
gealed spots  were  in  his  ears,  his  eyes,  and  at  the  corners  of  his 
mouth. 

"  Does  he  breathe  ?  "  asked  the  mechanic.  "  My  God,  what  a 
sight!  I  wish  those  wolves  would  secede  to-morrow."  I'd  volun- 
teer to  give  them  back  blood  for  blood."  _  ^ 

The  stranger  was  on  his  knees,  pressing  his  hand  on  Marquis 
breast,  and  taking  his  pulse. 

"  He  was  a  handsome  fellow,"  he  murmured. 

"  Is  he  alive,  sir  ?  "  asked  the  black,  respectfully. 

"Yes*  he  breathes,  and  his  pulse  beats  faintly;  but  we  must 
work  fast.     How  far  are  we  from  the  hotel? " 

"  A  mile,  sir." 


662  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  Listen,  both  !  I  am  a  physician.  I  have  brought  wine  and 
medicine  and  other  necessary  things.  Raise  his  head  gently,  while 
I  put  this  flask  to  his  lips  —  there  —  he  swallowed.  Where  can  we 
conceal  him,  and,  at  the  same  time  dress  his  wounds  ?  Will  any 
one  shelter  and  protect  this  poor  body  ? " 

The  black  answered, — 

"  I  have  got  a  room  ready  in  that  old  German  house,  way  up 
through  the  grove,"  pointing  to  a  remarkably  large  building  with  a 
steep,  mossy  roof,  with  clapboards  hanging  by  rusty  nails,  and  with 
here  and  there  a  paneless  window  boarded  up.  "  The  people  are 
white.  The  man  is  an  old  miner  who  has  been  hurt  in  the  mines 
and  gets  his  living  here  on  the  land,  as  best  he  can.  They  are 
English ;  they  do  not  treat  us  like  Americans." 

"My  name  is  'The  Surgeon,'"  said  the  stranger.  "What  is 
yours  ?  " 

"  King,  sir,"  answered  the  black  man. 

"  What  is  yours .''  turning  to  the  other. 

"  Lee,  sir." 

"  Right,"  said  The  Surgeon.  **Now,  Lee  and  King,  support  his 
shoulders.     I  will  carry  his  legs  ;  go  through  the  woods." 

They  entered,  by  the  direction  of  King,  a  spacious  unused  cham- 
ber, in  as  ruinous  condition  as  the  venerable  house.  The  kind- 
hearted  wife  of  the  English  miner  had  swept  the  broken  floor  and 
brushed  away  the  webs  and  dust  of  years.  An  old  oaken  bedstead, 
left  in  the  corner,  was  supplied  with  a  fresh  straw  mattress  and 
bed-clothing  brought  by  King.  Mark  remained  insensible ;  the 
miner  tenderly  lifted  the  arm  which  hung  over  the  bed,  to  which 
the  locked  handcuff  clung. 

"That  wrist  is  broken,"  said  The  Surgeon.  "The  hand-cuff 
must  be  taken  off  by  some  means." 

"  I  will  do  that,"  said  the  old  miner.     I  have  worked  in  iron." 

His  wife  brought  in  some  old  white  pieces  for  the  wounds,  and 
went  to  the  bedside.  Drying  her  eyes  with  her  apron,  she  said, 
compassionately, — 

"I  think  our  good  English  Queen,  our  good  Victoria,  would 
weep  to  see  one  of  her  poor  subjects  bruised  and  murdered  like 
this." 

Lee,  King,  and  the  old  miner  stand  by,  obeying  The  Surgeon's 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  663 

orders,  dropping  words  of  sympathy  for  Mark,  and  anathemas  for 
his  assassins. 

Before  sunset,  the  blood  and  sand  were  washed  from  the  curls, 
the  head  was  swathed  with  bandages  brought  by  The  Surgeon,  the 
broken  wrist  set  and  splintered,  the  dislocated  shoulder  put  in 
place,  a  bullet  extracted  from  the  other  shoulder,  the  ragged  hole 
cleansed  and  skillfully  dressed. 

"There,"  said  The  Surgeon,  " he  had  no  shirt  and  he  will  need 
none  at  present.  The  upper  part  of  the  body  is  covered  with  linen 
ligatures.  The  sheet  will  be  sufficient.  King,  call  the  miner's 
wife.     I  have  something  to  say." 

When  all  were  present,  The  Surgeon  said, — 

"My  friends,  this  kind  of  outlawry,"  pointing  to  the  bed,  "de- 
mands not  only  active  sympathy,  but  it  requires  concealment. 
The  government  committed  that  outrage.  The  President,  and 
every  member  of  Congress,  who  did  not  denounce  the  infamous 
Fugitive  Slave  Bill,  put  on  that  hand-cuff,  fired  those  revolvers. 
Their  hands  mangled  that  almost  lifeless  body.  Those  three  man- 
hunters  were  but  the  executioners  of  the  public  will.  Well,  then, 
these  three  ruffians  may  be  pursued  by  the  just  indignation  of  this 
quiet  valley  ;  they  may  be  brought  before  the  law  to  answer  for  to- 
day's wanton  violence.  What  then  ?  The  judge  will  shame  their 
righteous  prosecutors,  by  saying  to  Haywood  and  Fairland,  '  Gen- 
tlemen, I  find  no  count  against  you.  You  were  in  the  pursuit  of 
lawful  business.'  He  will  add,  '  The  true  disturbers  of  the  coun- 
try's peace  are  the  plaintiffs.'  This  decision  will  give  the  defend- 
ants leave  to  return  and  take  that  man  from  his  bed,  if  he  is  likely 
to  recover,  and  carry  him  away  to  the  plantation  of  Vaucluse  in 
South  CaroHna  —  the  slave  of  Haywood  for  life.  His  free  papers 
are  gone.  We  can  make  no  defence  but  concealment.  I  think  he 
will  come  out  of  this  j  he  has  groaned  twice  during  my  operations, 
but  his  recovery  will  be  a  three  months'  job.  Now  let  us  all  under- 
stand the  steps  to  be  taken,  for,  as  God  is  in  Heaven,  we  must 
stand  by  the  sufferer  in  that  bed." 

"  We  shall  do  that,"  answered  every  one. 

"  Right,"  continued  The  Surgeon.  "  The  front  windows  of  this 
chamber  are  boarded  up  ;  let  them  remain  so.  This  north  win- 
dow  must   have   a   curtain  impervdous  to  light.     Here   our   three 


664  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

names  are  settled  ;  Lee,  King  and  The  Surgeon.  The  names  of 
these  two,"  laying  his  hand  famiharly  on  the  old  miner's  shoulder, 
"  will  be  The  Miner  and  The  Miner's  Wife.  Outside  of  this  house, 
there  will  be  no  names.  I  shall  not  recognize  you  —  you  will  all 
be  strangers  to  me." 

"We  will  be  strangers,  sir,"  replied  Lee. 

The  Surgeon  placed  a  new,  crisp,  five-dollar  bank  bill  in  the  hand 
of  The  Miner,  saying, — 

"There  is  a  beginning;  I  shall  be  your  boarder  for  a  week  or 
more  —  as  necessity  requires.  I  pass  my  summer  vacation  in  this 
town.  I  find  more  pleasure  in  this  chamber  than  at  the  hotel.  I 
shall  conceal  my  departure  from  the  hotel  under  the  pretense  of  a 
trip  to  Philadelphia,  and  shall  be  here  this  evening.  This  victim 
of  Daniel  Webster,  *  The  Godlike,'  needs  my  care.  Friend  Lee,  I 
leave  him  under  your  eye  till  my  return.  King,  can  you  make  me 
up  some  sort  of  a  bed  in  this  room  ?  let  it  be  hard  and  plain  ;  any- 
thing to  escape  detection." 

"  I  can  do  anything  for  you,  sir,"  answered  King. 

After  giving  directions  for  the  use  of  the  restoratives,  The  Sur- 
geon glided  through  the  grove  and  corn-field  to  the  river,  where  he 
threw  his  fishing-rod  over  his  shoulder  and  soon  took  his  usual 
seat  at  table  for  supper. 

In  due  time,  when  the  five  Samaritans  were  gathered  in  the  north 
chamber,  The  Surgeon  unfolded  a  Philadelphia  paper,  and  read 
aloud  the  proceedings  of  the  arrest  of  Mark's  assailants,  accom- 
panied with  the  account  of  their  discharge,  and  the  remarks  of  the 
Justice  of  the  United  States  Supreme  Court  on  that  occasion. 

"  Here  it  is  in  black  and  white,"  said  The  Surgeon  ;  "  this  in- 
famous decision  is  as  I  expected.  This  representative  of  the 
Supreme  Law  concluded  the  proceedings  in  this  language. 

"  *  JVe  are  unable  to  perceive  in  this  transactiofi,  anytlwig  worthy  of 
blame  i7i   the  conduct  of  these  officers  vi  their  unsuccessful  endeavors  to 
fulfill  a  most  da??gerous  and  disgusting  duty  —  except^  perhaps^  a    want 
of  sufficieut  courage  a?id perscvera?tce  i?i  the  atteinpt  to  execute  the  writ.'' 

"  Of  course  no  mention  was  made  in  court  of  the  theft  of  free 
papers  before  the  attempt  at  kidnapping  Marquis — for  it  was  kid- 
napping a  free  man.     It  is  singular  whose  fingers  pilfered  Mark's 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  665 

papers.     I  suspect  that  ugly  copperhead  looking  fellow  of  a  host- 
ler to  be  the  traitor." 

"  Mark  should  have  another  set  of  papers,  if  they  can  be  ob- 
tained," remarked  Lee. 

"  True,"  answered  The  Surgeon.  "  We  can  at  least  make  the 
effort  to  obtain  others." 

He  approached  the  bed  of  his  patient,  and  asked, — 

"  What  is  the  name  of  the  person  who  freed  you  ?  You  are 
feeble ;  make  no  effort  at  conversation  ;  simply  answer  my  ques- 
tions.    The  name  of  the  person  who  freed  you  ?  " 

'*  Mrs.  Lucy  Steele." 

"  Is  she  living  now  ?  " 

"  She  is." 

"  Her  residence?" 

"  Cloudspire,  Massachusetts." 

"  What  is  your  full  name  ?  " 

"  Marquis  Clarendon,  sir." 

"  Where  did  this  lady  reside  at  the  time  you  were  made  free  ?  " 

"  Charleston,  South  Carolina." 

"  That  is  sufficient.     Take  this  opiate  and  all  will  be  right." 

At  the  end  of  three  weeks'  time,  The  Surgeon  read  to  Mark  a 
letter  from  his  benefactress,  Mrs.  Lucy  Beame,  and  another  from 
her  husband,  Richard  Beame.  Both  expressed  the  deepest  com- 
miseration for  his  suffering,  and  were  accompanied  by  the  proper 
and  legal  papers,  establishing  his  freedom.  Folded  in  these 
instruments  was  the  sum  of  one  hundred  dollars,  to  be  equally  di- 
vided between  Marquis  and  the  good  old  miner. 

Richard  had  said  to  Lucy,  after  reading  The  Surgeon's  communi- 
cation,— 

"  Our  annual  gift  from  my  charming  parishioner  in  Mississipi 
has  just  arrived.  Let  us  bestow  it  upon  one  who  has  been  way- 
laid, robbed,  and  half-murdered,  under  the  sanction  of  Republican 
Law." 

In  November,  Lucy  and  Richard  received  information  from 
Marquis  by  letter  that  he  had  made  a  successful  escape  into  Can- 
ada, with  his  family,  by  the  "  Underground  Railroad."  We  quote 
a  few  extracts : 


666  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  I  was  concealed  and  guarded  by  several  friends,  to  whom  I 
shall  ever  owe  a  debt  of  gratitude  ;  but  my  life  was  saved  by  the 
wonderful  devotion  and  skill  of  a  stranger.  He  was  young,  fair, 
and  angelically  beautiful,  possessed  of  every  manly  grace,  and  en- 
dowed with  the  noblest  traits  of  humanity.  These  are  summed  up 
in  that  one  phrase,  '  The  spirit  of  Christ.' 

"  The  spirit  of  Christ.  How  like  a  balm  those  words  fall  upon 
the  heart!  yet  where  is  it  to  be  found?  In  theGovernment  that 
professes  to  be  founded  upon  the  Scriptures  ?  No.  In  the  admin- 
istration of  public  officials  ?  No.  In  the  ruling  utterances  of  the 
Press  .''  No.  In  the  thousand  and  one  churches  who  worship 
Christ  as  the  Asiatics  worship  Boodh  .''     No. 

"  Is  the  spirit  of  Christ  found  in  those  who  have  taken  that 
sacred  bath  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,  called  conversion?  No. 
Is  this  blessed  spirit  found  anywhere?  With  emphasis  I  answer, 
Yes.  It  is  found  in  the  faith  and  deeds  of  those  good  Samaritans 
who  hold  paramount  the  claims  of  justice,  and  humanity,  over  the 
wicked  laws  of  a  nation  of  heartless  banditti.  In  the  lives  of 
those  good  Samaritans  over  whose  heads  hang  the  '  Social  frown,' 
and  the  judicial  penalty  of  fines  and  imprisonment,  for  giving  aid 
and  shelter  to  the  fleeing  fugitive.  In  these  hearts  alone,  I  have 
found  the  helpful,  sympathetic,  benign,  and  ineffable  spirit  of  the 
Messiah." 

"  My  comfortable  cottage  in  the  suburbs  of  Philadelphia,  and  of 
which  I  hold  the  deed,  is  left  to  the  indifferent  care  of  strangers. 
It  is  the  purchase  of  years  of  industry  and  economy,  by  Janet  and 
myself.  When  shall  we  again  traverse  its  verandah,  or  sit  under 
the  vines  oui  hands  have  trained  ?  *' 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

AUGUSTUS  DENTELLE  and  his  young  wife.  May,  passed 
out  from  the  breakfast-room  to  the  garden.  Like  two  lovers 
of  a  day,  they  slowly  followed  the  winding  paths  beneath  rose  ar- 
bors, out  into  the  glint  of  the  morning  sun,  hidden   by  masses  of 


WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  667 

sweet  myrtles,  oleanders,  and  j  aponicas,  under  the  shade  of  mag- 
nolias and  crape  myrtles,  mingling  honeyed  words  and  low,  rippling 
laughter  with  the  matin  songs  oiE  birds,  floating  down  from  the 
branches. 

His  arm  was  thrown  about  her  waist  above  the  sash  of  blue  that 
girdled  her  delicately  embroidered  white  robe,  and  her  trusting 
hand  was  upon  his  shoulder. 

"  Augustus,  Augustus ! "  said  May,  turning  her  radiant  face  to 
her  husband,  "  do  you  know  Zaffiri  is  coming  to-morrow  ?  I  am 
so  happy.  Those  roses  should  not  make  such  haste  to  unfold  their 
charms." 

She  waved  her  left  hand  towards  the  shrubbery,  apostrophising 
the  wilderness  of  budding  fragrance.    , 

"Hush,  beautiful  roses!  Listen,  children  of  the  skies!  Fold 
the  secret  I  am  about  to  confide  within  your  velvet  hearts.  Zafnri 
and  Claude  are  coming.  Mamma  Bloome  and  Papa  Bloome  are 
coming.  Fold  your  petals.  Hide  your  lovely  blushes  till  they 
stand  in  your  midst !  Then  put  on  your  royal  robes  !  then  be  ye 
superb." 

"  Roses  ! "  ejaculated  Augustus,  in  turn  extending  a  shapely  hand, 
"I  will  tell  ye  something  seraphic  !  May  is  here,  in  your  midst  I 
My  May  !  my  beautiful  '  Bulbal ! '  my  rose-loving  nightingale  ! 
Is  she  not  pouring  the  silver  music  of  her  voice  in  your  ears  ?  Roses  ! 
I  command  ye,  bloom,  and  delay  not !  Open  your  velvet  hearts  to 
my  sylph, —  my  May!  Pure  white  'Sappho,'  rosy  i^\wV^  Reine  de 
Fleurs,  rosy  crimson  '  Marx,'  satiny  '  Lamoreciere,  cherry-colored 
*  Margolin,'  clear  flesh  'Amandine,'  rose  incarnate  '  Beranger,' 
vivid  red  '  Robin  Hood,'  expand  !  bloom  !  die  !  and  cast  your 
resplendent  robes  in  perfumed  drafts  at  my  love's  feet !     Obey  !  " 

"  Fie  !  dear  Augustus  !  what  will  the  roses  do  now  ? "  asked 
May,  almost  suffocating  with  merriment. 

"  They  will  obey  me  !  Nightingale,  this  garden,'  these  bowers, 
these  roses  are  for  your  delight.  Let  them  bloom  to-day  !  Do 
not  understand,  however,  darling,  that  I  do  not  rejoice  in  your  an- 
ticipations of  a  reunion  with  Claude  and  Zaffiri.  If  they  had 
refused  to  come  to  Savannah  for  the  gratification  of  my  beautiful 
wife,  I  should  have  waived  my  arm  towards  the  North,  and  thun- 
dered forth,  '  Come  ! '  '' 


668  WHITE    MAV,   AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

"  And  so,  my  dear,  you  count  their  pleasure  as  nothing  ;  only 
think  of  the  delightful  change  from  their  cold,  leaden,  November 
skies,  to  this  summer  clime.  Like  sleet-driven  birds,  they  will 
nestle  down  under  this  warm  sun." 

"  No,  sweet  one  ;  I  shall  extend  the  bounteous,  knightly  hospital- 
ity which  a  Southerner  knows  well  how  to  offer ;  they  shall  sail, 
walk,  gallop  and  driv^e.  I  will  load  the  table  with  venison,  duck, 
wild  turkey,  and  delicately  flavored  fish  from  the  sea.  The  god- 
dess '  Terpsichore  '  shall  preside  over  the  shades  of  night  ;  and 
you,  my  '  Euterpe,'  shall  rule  the  day. 

"  Thanks  !  and  you,  my  charming  '  Apollo,'  shall  preside  over 
all.  Ah !  has  the  pony, '  Moslem,'  that  I  ride  at  the  plantation,  been 
brought  down  ? " 

"He  is  here  in  the  stable.  Madame  Lambelle  is  a  fine  equestri- 
en7ie,  I  believe.  *  Moslem  '  will  please  her.  You  ladies  will  sweep 
across  the  plains  on  '  Moslem  '  and  '  El  Canala,'  like  two  Arab 
queens." 

They  approached  the  orangery. 

"  Dear  me,  Augustus,  I  could  never  have  conceived  the  super- 
abundance of  fruit  supported  by  an  orange  tree,  without  the  evi- 
dence of  my  own  eyes.  What  an  extravagant  redundance  of 
golden  fruits.  *  The  leaves  are  pressed  for  existence  between  the 
compact  bunches." 

"  They  are  certainly  unique  in  their  growth,  dear  May."  He 
called  a  grey-headed  servant,  awaiting  orders  on  the  piazza. 

"  Here,  '  June,'  select  an  orange  and  remove  the  peel  for  your 
mistress.  Let  us  pass  through  the  conservatory  while  June  is  oc- 
cupied with  the  orange." 

They  entered  amidst  the  obsequious  attentions  of  the  florist, 
who  called  May's  admiration  to  a  new  collection  of  rare  exotics 
received  the  previous  day. 

"They  are  exquisite,"  said  May,  "but  do  not  torture  me  with 
their  ugl}^,  scientific  classification  ;  I  will  name  them  for  myself,  as 
I  fancy." 

"  Florist,"  said  the  husband,  "  cut  the  flowers  that  Mrs. 
Dentelle  prefers;  arrange,  and  bring  them  to  the  piazza." 

This  piazza  projected  into  the  garden  which  was  screened  from 
the  street  by  high  brick  walls,  overgrown  by  English  ivy. 


WHITE  MAY  AXD   BLACK   JrXE. 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  9 

,    •       (  VAon  hrncade  near  the  fluted  columns  awaited 


madam. 


mauaiu.  .  ,  „ 

"  June,  bring  your  mistress  wrap  Dentelle  drew 

He  brought  ^^^arming  Parisian  mantle  w^^^^^^  ^^^^.^^ 

tenderly  about  Ma/s  shoulders    June  brouht  also  .^^_ 

for  her  feet,  which  he  Pl^'\^d,  w.  h  a  smile  of   humD  ^^ 

"  'T'  °"  ou[°misCs  °'     a  d  SentelleTn  a l^ntering  tone     . 
^rxVwCu'ponjrtrvely  lady,  is  a  great  pleasure,  sir.     She  is 

the  white  angel,  sir." 

"What  am /then  ?"  „ 

«  The  master  and  mistress  are  both  one,  s^r  ^.^^ 

"Now,  May,  do  you  hear  that?      Do  you  see  tne  g     y        ._ 
which  your  celestial   aurora  envelopes  me?    Iruiy,  marna^ 
vine.     Tell  me  the  hour,  June. 

After  a  look  within,  the  slave  replied,— 

::  ffifat:;  S:  Ws  arm  to  I^is  wif^  saying,- 

"  I  must  go  ;  one  song  on  the  harp  dearest. 

June  followed,  placed  th^,  harp,  and  retired     In  a  t^vv 
thi  air  of  the  parlors  thrilled  -^    'he  me  ody  o    M^y^  ^^^.^^^ 
rising  in  briUiant  roulades,  or  poising  itselto  ^^  ^^^ 

abovl  the  silvery  shower  of  the  ha  p^  the  tr^e  tops  poured  forth 
garden  caught  the  inspiration  and  from  the  tree  tops  p 

their  wildest  carols.  „i„;„„rl   A„mi<;tus   as  May's  fingers 

Ttmo^lerelf  Tovet^vhtch  she  had  passed  the  morning  were  her 

"TfamUiaTv"o(ce  accosted  her  >-  genf  e  -"-•  ^^^ 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Dentelle,  are  you  not  fatiguea.  y 

have  a  glass  of  wine  ?  " 


670  WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK  JUNE. 

"  No,  indeed,  Celestine.  I  am  not  the  least  weary  ;  I  am  just 
ready  for  a  Afazurka." 

"  I  have  observed  you,"  continued  the  gentle  voice,  "  with  your 
husband  in  the  garden.  He  is  devoted  to  you.  It  was  a  rare  and 
charming  sight  in  this  cold  world,  yet  you  drink  from  the  chalice 
of  his  affections  as  indifferently  as  a  bird  drinks  dew  from  the 
leaves.     You  fear  not  to  lose  his  adoration,  and  look  for  it  daily." 

"  Why,  Celestine,  I  never  knew  the  feeling  of  one  unloved.  I 
never  missed  human  love  from  my  earliest  memory." 

"True,  destinies  are  dissimular.  Some  are  stamped  with  disap- 
pointment and  sorrow  ;  others  are  woven  with  threads  of  gold,  and 
embossed  with  flowers." 

"  Dear  Celestine,"  said  May,  "you  would  say  the  former  is  yours, 
and  the  latter  is  my  fate  j  but  I  cannot  decide  to  do  penance  by 
wearing  haircloth  and  sleeping  on  thistles,  in  order  to  piously  bal- 
ance these  inequalities  of  destiny.  I  think  every  intelligent  being 
should  strive  towards  happiness.  The  garden  will  not  refuse  its 
charms  to  you,  Celestine ;  the  roses  will  yield  you  their  fragrant 
breath  ;  the  oranges  will  fall  into  your  hands  as  well  as  into  ?nin€. 
The  blue  serenity  of  the  sky  o'erarches  you,  as  well  as  vie.  I 
wish  you  to  enjoy  all." 

"  Marriage,  Mrs.  Dentelle  is  the  diadem  of  earthly  loves  ;  frater- 
nal and  filial  affections  must  yield  before  the  royal  behest  of  con- 
nubial endearment.  True  marriage  gilds  ev^ery  enjoyment.  But  I 
am  sure  this  conversation  harasses  you.  I  congratulate  you,  my 
kindest  of  friends,  on  this  union  with  your  noble  husband,  and 
your  prospective  happiness." 

"  Cheer  up,  Celestine,  there  is  a  bright  side  to  all  conditions. 
Zaffiri  and  her  husband  will  arrive  to-morrow ;  they  will  afford  you 
a  new  study.  Vou  will  adore  Madame  Lambelle  ;  think  of  her 
to-day." 

True  t  was,  that  Madame  Lambelle  was  on  her  way  to  Savan- 
nah. After  repeated  solicitations,  she  was  to  run  the  gauntlet  of 
discovery.  She  had  embraced  Minnie  in  Montreal,  and  said  with 
agitation, — 

"  Pray  for  me,  lest  I  fall  into  a  snare." 

Minnie  had  said,  cheeringly, — 

"  They  would  never  dream  of  your  being  a  fugitive  !  " 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  671 

"  Ah !  what  a  paradise  !  "  ejaculated  Zaffiri,  the  next  moning 
after  her  arrival.  "  Your  rooms  are  wreathed  with  flowers  and 
fragrance,  your  garden  is  redolent  with  bursting  buds,  and  here  are 
orange  trees  laden  with  luscious  fruit !  Mrs.  Bloome,"  turning  to 
May's  mother,  "I  think  I  should  prefer  the  South  as  a  residence." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  escape  from  Savannah  summers  to  Indiana, 
though  the  winters  here  are  delightful.  May  had  a  conservatory 
at  home,  as  large  as  this." 

In  passing-  through  it,  Mrs.  Bloome  named  the  rare  plants  with 
familiarity. 

There  were  groups  of  ladies  in  the  arbors,  politics  on  the  piazza, 
and  music  around  the  harp  and  piano.  '  Moslem  '  and  '  El  Canalo ' 
daily  bore  May  and  Zaffiri  out  into  the  dewy  suburbs,  their  ciding- 
skirts  brushing  the  odoriferous  copses  of  laurel  and  sweet  bay. 
They  paused  and  conversed  under  the  evergreen  domes  of  live- 
oaks,  tangling  their  plumes  in  the  swaying  drapery  of  pale  gray 
moss;  they  explored  the  balmy  depths  of  pine  forests,  trailing 
among  vines  and  fan-palms. 

They  returned,  radiant  with  health  and  animation.  Upon  one  of 
these  occasions,  Mrs.  Bloome  said  to  May, — 

"Your  milk-white  pony  misses  you  sadly,  up  in  Indiana,  my 
darling ;  but  papa  will  see  him  in  his  stall  as  long  as  he  chooses  to 
live."  Turning  to  Zaffiri,  she  continued,  "Mr.  Bloome  will  have 
May's  saddle  hung  in  the  same  place  as  before  her  marriage.  He 
will  have  the  same  flowers  every  year  in  May's  parterre,  and  he 
will  have  the  flowers  she  loved  best  cut  for  the  vases  in  her  vacant 
chamber  ;  he  orders  the  servants  to  leave  the  furniture  and  trifles 
as  May  last  disposed  them.     He  mourns  her  loss,  deeply." 

"And  you,  mamma,"  asked  May  with  her  arms  about  her  motlier's 
neck,  "  Do  you  miss  me  ?  " 

"Do  I  miss  you  ?  my  child,  do  not  stab  my  heart  with  that  cruel 
question.  My  sunlight  has  turned  to  night.  My  bird  has  flown 
from  its  cage.     Love,  youth  and  beauty  flew  away  with  my  birdie." 

May  kissed  her  mother  gayly,  saying, — 

"Dear  mamma,  you  have  your  birdie  now,  and  you  will  have  her 
for  two  years;  you  know  you  and  papa  are  going  to  Europe  with 
us.  We  shall  admire  the  ancient  and  modern  wonders,  together. 
Now,  while  you  and  papa  take  an  airing  in  the  carriage,  with  Papa 


C72  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

and  Mamma  Dentelle,  I  shall  hold  a  tete-a-tete  with  Zaffiri.  Oh ! 
I've  so  many  sweet  things  to  say,  and  I've  not  had  her  one  mo- 
ment to  myself." 

June,  who  was  sitting  in  his  accustomed  place  in  the  upper  hall, 
rose  as  the  ladies  gayly  ascended.  His  face  was  benign  with  the 
dumb  homage  which  ever  welcomed  his  beloved  young  mistress. 

"June,  bring  up  a  nice  lunch,"  May  said.  "  We  have  had  a  long 
gallop.  Bring  what  will  please  me  ;  one  thing  must  be  orange 
sherbet.  Let  us  be  Orientals,  Zaffiri.  Bring  on  the  salver  a  dish 
of  violets  and  tube-roses."  She  said  to  her  maid,  "  dress  us  quickly 
and  retire  ;  then  disturb  us  for  nothing." 

Over  their  lunch,  violets  and  tube-roses,  began  the  outflow  of 
meandering  confidences  like  the  sparkling  streams  of  long-pent 
fountains. 

"You  have  a  fine,  trusty  old  servant  in  the  hall,"  remarked  Zaffiri. 

"  Yes  !  I  am  attached  to  June,  and  he  pets  me  as  if  I  were  his 
grandchild.  What  an  idea  ! "  they  both  laughed  without  control. 
"  I  mean  to  say,  as  if  I  were  the  blossom  of  his  poor,  slave  exist- 
ence. You  see,  I  oblige  him  to  sit  when  waiting  in  the  hall.  It  is 
the  custom  for  slaves  to  stand.  But  June  is  viy  slave.  Augustus 
made  a  bill  of  sale  of  him  to  me."  A  comical  witchery  glinted  in 
her  eyes.  She  laid  her  hand  on  her  friend's  arm,  bent  towards 
her,  and  said  in  an  undertone,  "  Oh,  it  is  so  ludicrous !  but  Augus- 
tus app<  ars  really  jealous  of  our  young  colored  men-servants.  I 
make  no  pretensions  of  understanding,  but  June  —  dear  me  !  "  she 
covered  her  face  with  her  palms  and  shook  with' convulsive  merri- 
ment. "June  — oh,  my  !  June  is  the  eunuch  of  Augustus'  harem, 
of  which  I  am  the  idolized  and  sole  occupant !  " 

There  was  a  long  pause  in  which  both  swept  away  tears  of  jocose 
ridicule. 

"  Do  you  suppose,  Zaffiri,  ca?i  you  suppose  that  Cupid  has  er- 
rands between  the  whites  and  negroes  of  the  South .''  I've  always 
heard  the  taunt  of  amalgamation  cast  contemptuously  at  the  North, 
and  I  have  never  dreamed  of  anything  but  a  general  hatred  and 
contempt  for  any  shade  of  color  in  the  South." 

"I  should  suppose  Cupid's  occupation  gone,  in  that  direction,'* 
answered  Zaffiri ;  "  but  I  am  not  a  resident  of  the  slave  section,  and, 
therefore,  can  form  no  opinion  except  of  impossibility." 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  673 

"Well  Aucrustus'  care  is  a  riddle  to  me,  although  a  very  pleasant 
one  He's  a^  queer  fellow  ;  he  has  an  antipathy  against  Celestine, 
that  gentle,  subdued  woman.  He  thinks  her  sombre  view  of  life 
casts   a  gloom  over  my  happiness.     He  says   there   shall   be    no 

clouds  in  my  sky.  c  •      ^ 

"  Celestine  is  a  woman  of  about  fifty  years,  without  friends,  near 
relations,  and  without  a  home.  She  is  distantly  connected  with 
Papa  Dentelle's  mother,  who  traces  her  blue  blood  back  to  Henry 
the  Eighth  of  England.  It  is  only  Celestine's  high  blood  whicn 
induces  Augustus  to  tolerate  her  at  all.  He  reveres  blood. 
"  She  should  be  content  in  your  family."  ^ 

"She  is,  enlirely.  Celestine  is  the  housekeeper,  carries  her 
keys.     These  cares  lighten  her  trouble  by  diversion." 

"  What  is  her  family  name  ? "  ,      ,  , 

"  Channaire  —  Celestine  Cbannaire.  I  am  in  a  study  about  the 
future.  Mamma  Dentelle  will  not  allow  her  in  /ler  family ;  and 
Augustus  will  not  welcome  her  on  our  return  from  Europe,  bhe 
is  a  true  Southern  lady' by  birth  and  education.  Private  misfor- 
tunes have  brought  her  to  dependence.  Zaffin,  have  you  need  of 
her?  I  know  your  generosity  and  delicate  sympatny.  Celestine 
could  not  feel  her  desolation  with  you  and  your  noble  husband." 

"  Miss  Channaire  would  not  be  pleased  with  the  North,  would 
she  ?  You  know,  May,  the  Northern  temperament  is  said  to  be 
more  phleo-matic  than  the  Southern.  Would  she  not  miss  the  exu- 
berant social  warmth  of  her  own  section,  which  is  as  gracetul  and 
luxuriant  as  the  growth  of  your  vegetation  ?  " 

"  Dear  Zaffiri,  you  make  an  unfortunate  mistake.  Caste  reigns 
here  There  is  no  social  warmth  for  one  in  Celestine's  destitution. 
Our  ladies,  in  consideration  of  her  blood,  would  not  meet  her  with 
open  superciliousness,  but  she  would  feel  neglect  in  a  thousand 
ways  which  could  not  be  well-defined  as  contempt,  but  which 
would  be  thorns  to  her  peace  of  mind  though  she  would  never 
complain.     She  conceals  a  secret  cause  of  grief,  of  which  I  have 

been  informed." 

The  two  friends  bowed  their  heads  very  near,  and  for  an  hour 
their  low  voices  could  scarcely  have  been  heard  beyond  their  own 
seats.  Surprise,  pity,  indignation  and  commiseration  sat  in  turn 
upon  the  faces  of  each.     Their  eyes  flashed,  calmed  and  melted 


674  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

into  tears.  Compassion  wrought  new  beauty  in  the  countenances 
of  the  two  lovely  women,  and  rendered  them  angelic.  When  the 
conference  closed,  and  their  voices  still  grieved,  and  their  cheeks 
were  still  wet,  May  opened  her  bureau  drawers  and  spread  an  as- 
sortment of  linen  and  muslin  embroidery  upon  Zaffiri's  lap. 

"  That  is  Celestine's  work  for  me  ;  observe,  please,  the  delicacy 
of  those  lilies  and  leaves,  the  jasmine  sprays  and  pensile  buds,  the 
finish  of  the  points.  It  was  a  labor  of  love,  for  I  besought  her 
not  to  peril  her  sight,  which  has  been  severely  tried  during  many 
years." 

"This  embroidery  is  like  the  handiwork  of  Nature,  herself ;  but 
it  pains  me  to  measure  the  heart-ache  stitched  beneath  that  tioss. 
A  person  of  Celestine's  shrinking,  sensitive  organization,  would 
feel  a  voluntary  preference  for  the  one  who  should  offer  her  home 
and  friendship.  She  should  not  accept  a  mere  shelter  from  a  piti- 
less world  without  a  satisfying  rest  to  her  affections ;  else  she  will 
pine  under  the  corroding  effect  of  coQcealed  disquiet  and  home- 
sickness. If  INIiss  Channaire  should  indulge  the  slightest  antipa- 
thy or  prejudice  for  me,  dear  May,  it  would  be  cruelty  to  proffer 
a  home  to  her  when  she  has  no  other  alternative." 

"Antipathy  or  prejudice  to  you,  Zafffri .?  Preposterous  supposi- 
tion !  then  Celestina  must  be  the  only  exception  to  the  world. 
Every  one  you  meet  is  charmed  into  admiration  and  love  for  you, 
and  to  confess  the  truth,  I  have  broached  the  necessity  of  a  change 
for  her  at  her  timid  request.  She  is  captivated  with  Zaffiri  —  you 
have  a  singular  attraction  for  her.     She  talks  of  you  constantly."* 

"That  information  changes  the  aspect  of  the  transfer.  I  do  not 
doubt  my  own  love  and  ability  to  cherish  her  into  a  brighter  view 
of  life.  I  think  I  might  extract  that  hidden  thorn  of  sorrow,  and 
heal  the  wound,  though  not  without  a  cicatrice,  perhaps.  I  be- 
lieve I  might  heal  its  rankling,  festering  pain.  Her  pallid,  patient 
face  haunts  me  last,  when  my  lids  are  closed  in  sleep  ;  and  first, 
when  I  awake  to  consciousness.     I  will  think  farther." 

"  Hark !  I  hear  Augustus.  They  have  returned,"  exclaimed 
May,  at  the  same  time  gliding  out  upon  the  piazza  and  leaning 
over  the  balustrade  to  listen.  She  returned,  saying,  "  The  gentle- 
men are  deep  in  discussion.  That  ogre  —  that  ghoul  —  of  Seces- 
sion rises  head  and  shoulders  above  other  issues,  as  usual  ;  rather 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  675 

call  it  the  Grecian  Sphinx,  with  a  riddle  in  its  mouth,  for  individual 
so  ution  of  all  that  pass  by -and  which  kills  all  who  fail  to  solve 
U  Ugh !  how  I  hate  that  word,  Secession  ;  hke  Pharaohs  plague 
of   frogs,   it   is   everywhere;    in    parlor,    chamber   and    kneadmg 

"°"f  lav.  I  fear  that  word,  '  Secession.'  I  think  that  Grecian 
Sphinx  with  the  riddle,  will  change  tactics,  in  America,  and  kUl  all 

who  do  solve  ity  r     •  11     1        u  r)     ^ 

« I  don't  fear  it,"  laughed  May,  in  a  tone  of  ridicule.  Papa 
Dentelle  says,  '  Secession  '  would  not  trouble  Savannan  or  any 
other  Southern  city.  There  would  be  a  few  mihtary  brushes  on  the 
line  between  the  Slave  and  Free  States.  He  says  the  North  would 
yield  to  the  first  thunder  of  Southern  artillery.  The  Slave  State, 
would  gain  a  bloodless  victory  on  paper  at  Washington,  xvlien  the 
North  would  sign  terms  of  capitulation  there  conceding  Constitu- 
tional Southern  Rights.  I  only  wish  they  would  go  about  it,  and 
indulge  no  longer  in  indolent  and  imbecile  hesitation. 

"  1  ao-ree  dear  May.  The  sooner  their  rights  are  estaolished  the 
better  °  Much  as  I  deplore  a  fracture,  of  our  Republic,  it  secession 
is  the  only  panacea  for  her  ills,  I  say,  let  ^he  experiment  proceed 

"  Dear  me  !"  exclaimed  May,  "  how  we  babble  on,  Zafhri,  like 
those  noisy  Northern  brooks.  I  have  not  found  time  to  speak  of 
U  lovely  Mississippi  friend,  Mrs.  SiUton.  N^cmporte,  xye  must  meet 
the  party  below.  Do  allow  Celestine  to  go  with  you  to  your  dress- 
n-ioom  ;  she  craves  the  privilege  and  will  not  feel  the  least  humil- 
iared  by  the  service  she  knows  well  how  to  render.     I  will  give 

^''she^'foun'd 'june  at  his  post  in  the  hall,  bade  him  remember  that 
"  this  day  will  be  2.fde  of  roses."  . 

"Fill  the  vases^  everywhere,  with  every  variety  the  garaen 
affords,"  she  said  with  enthusiasm,  and  she  gave  him  a  paper  with  a 
fist  no  to  be  overlooked.  ''  Deep  carmine  '  Royal,'  Clear  flesh 
rL^^ine,' deep  crimson  '  Baronne  Halez,' light  'Rose  Madame 
Vrrdier,'  pure  white  '  Portland  blanc,'  incarnate  '  Beranger  and 
purple  red^  '  Magador.'  Give  this  to  the  gardner  and  tell  he 
Lrfst  to  send  up  to  me  some  of^his  choicest  tea  roses.  Have  this 
order  attended  to  immediately." 

-  Immediately,  dear  mistress,"  repeated  June,  hastening  away. 


676  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  ^ 

Then  May  and  Zaffiri  entered  the  rose-scented  apartments  below, 
with  tea  roses  in  their  braids  and  at  their  throats,  and  passed  out 
to  the  piazza.  The  four  gentlemen  left  their  seats  with  an  instinct- 
ive salute  of  admiration. 

"  Do  not  allow  us  to  interrupt  the  discussion,"  said  Zaffiri. 
"Consider  us  as  priestesses  in  the  American  temple  of  Justice." 

"Proceed,  gentlemen,"  urged  May,  with  a  gay  smile  and  a 
sibylline  wave  of  her  blue-veined  hand.  "  Perfect  your  scheme  of 
secession  ;  no  longer  agitate  disunion,  metphorically ;  clear  it  of 
objections  and  difficulties ;  lay  3'our  foundations  for  secession  on 
the  rock  of  sovereign  will  —  not  on  the  quicksands  of  the  past,  to 
be  undermined  by  the  first  flood  of  Northern  compromises.  Pro- 
ceed, gentlemen." 

A  clapping  of  hands,  and  many  polite  "bravos!"  followed. 
Dentelle  called  May  his  proud  goddess  Minerva,  kissed  her  cheek 
and  gallantly  led  her  to  a  seat.  He  took  up  the  broken  thread  of 
argument. 

"  As  I  said,  the  South  will  soon  be  in  a  hopeless  minority.  Let 
her  face  the  reality  with  such  feelings  as  she  may.  The  South,  like 
the  dead  body  of  Hector  bound  to  the  car  of  Achilles,  v*fill  soon  be 
dragged  by  the  triumphant  North  around  a  ruined  possession, 
quickly  to  be  followed  by  the  erasive  ploughshare  of  the  subverting 
conquerer.  Let  me  show  the  process  of  our  humiliation.  By  the 
surrender  of  Kansas,  the  South  will  become  subordinate  and  the 
North  predominate  in  the  Union.  Never  again  could  the  equilib- 
rium of  State  sovereign  representation  between  the  South  and  the 
North  be  restored  to  the  senate,  or  the  equality  of  the  South  with 
the  North  be  maintained  in  the  House  of  Representatives." 

"  The  loss  of  Kansas,  to  the  South,  will  involve  the  loss  of  !Mis- 
souri,"  said  Mr.  Bloome,  "'and  the  loss  of  Missouri  will  destroy  the 
moral  as  well  as  the  political  prestige  of  the  South." 

"  True,"  joined  Mr.  Lambelle  ;  "  with  abolitionized  Iowa, 
stretching  on  the  north  of  Missouri,  and  abolitionized  Kansas,  on 
the  west,  Missouri  must  in  a  few  years  necessarily  cease  to  be  a 
slave-holding  State." 

"  A  correct  view,  sir,"  agreed  Augustus ;  "  besides,  the  loss  of 
Missouri  to  the  South  will  involve  the  loss  of  Creek  and  Cherokee 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  677 

domain  ;  the  Choctaw  and  Chickasaw  domain,  and  New  Mexico, 
and  Arizona." 

•  "  There's  the  loss  of  six  States,  which  are  legitimately  attached 
to  the  slave-holding  interests  of  the  South,  and  which  would  save 
the  harmonious  equilibrium  of  the  Union.  Then  follows  the  loss 
of  Arkansas,  another  slave-holding  State  ;  and  of  Texas,  war- 
ranted by  the  law  of  annexation  to  be  divided  into  five  slave- 
holding  States." 

"  A  positive  loss  to  the  South  of  twelve  States,"  said  IVIr.  Bloome 
fraternally.  "  In  justice,  as  well  as  through  a  wise  and  politic 
statesmanship,  they  should  be  saved  to  the  slave-holding  interests." 

Dentelle  paced  the  floor  with  exasperated  step,  and  caught  up 
the  words  hastily. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Bloome,  and  what  will  be  the  effect  of  this  Black 
Republican  piracy  ? "  He  stopped  before  May's  father,  and  with 
aggravated  gestures  declared  solemnly,  "  This  !  It  will  subject  to 
abolitionism  the  entire  western  shore  of  the  Mississippi  river, 
reaching  beyond  the  Rocky  Mountains,  to  the  Pacific  Ocean  and 
down  to  the  Rio  Grande ;  and  convulsing  Louisiana  with  servile 
war,  will  saturate  her  soil  with  blood." 

"It  seems,"  remarked  Mr.  Lambelle,  "  that  Black  Republican- 
ism* embraces  and  controls  abolitionism,  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
it  professes  to  entertain  due  regard  to  Law,  Government  and  the 
Constitution." 

"Yes,  their  organization  is  political,  separate  from  religious 
fanaticism  and  moral  frenzy.  It  is  only  potent  for  evil  while  the 
South  shall  continue  in  the  Union.  It  has  mentally  eliminated  a 
broad  and  profound  policy  —  a  comprehension  and  far-reaching 
statesmanship,  which  contemplates  the  gradual  consolidation  of  the 
governmejtt  through  amendments  to  the  Constitution.  But 
Black  Republicanism  has  a  stopping  point,  and  ceases  its  power y^r 
mischief  i'^  regard  to  the  South,  at  least  with  disunion." 

"  According  to  this  curriculum,  father,  the  abolitionists  will  have 
the   power   in   a  few  years  to  alter  the  Constitution  in  any  way  they 
please.     They  will,   in   ten  years,  more  or  less,   fulfill   their  inten- 
tions of  abolishing  slavery  in  all  the  States  in  a  constitutional  man- 


ner." 


"  Clear  as  the  sun,  Augustus  ]  if,  then,  the  South  would  escape 


678  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

the  dire  effects  of  the  abolition  of  slavery,  the  best  attitude  in 
which  she  can  meet  the  danger,  is  that  of  a  separate  and  i7idepend- 
ent  gove?'7imenty 

"  The  North  scarcely  estimates  the  significance  of  emancipation  ; 
and  yet,  I  think  they  would  hesitate  long  before  inflicting  so  heavy 
a  loss  upon  the  South,"  remarked  Mr.  Lambelle. 

"Why,  sir,  the  loss  would  be  nine  billions  of  property  to  the 
whites  ;  and  the  abolition  of  slaves  means  that  your  h'uxd  freed 
negro-gan*  will  be  made  your  '  equals '  and  '■  fellouf-citizens^  by  the 
grace  of  law  and  the  abolitionists.  It  means,  to  the  negro,  equality 
with  his  former  master  in  politics  and  civil  rights  ;  and,  as  far  as 
it  can  be  done,  in  social  privileges." 

"  Who  would  be  submissionists  ?  "  asked  May,  her  eye  eloquent 
with  disgust. 

"  I  ask  that  question,  myself,"  said  Mrs.  Bloome.  "Who  would 
not  encounter  Secession  and  collision,  rather  than  give  up  his 
slaves  to  emancipation,  his  family  to  degradation,  his  property  to 
ruin,  and  himself  to  poverty." 

Encores  and  cries  of  ''''Hear!  Hear!  Hear!^^  from  familiar 
voices  in  the  parlor,  checked  the  further  unrolling  of  that  web  of 
fate  in  which  that  circle  had  been  so  busily  engaged. 

They  rose  simultaneously  with  the  appearance  in  the  long  wm- 
dows  of  Colonel  Haywood  and  his  wife,  Grace. 

"Jupiter,  Olympus,  Dentelle,"  said  the  cononel,  "  we  have  not 
fallen  into  a  nest  of  Abolitionists  this  time.  Be  seated  —  I  com- 
mand." 

After  the  hand  pressures  and  welcomes,  Grace  entreated  May 
and  Augustus  to  resume  seats  with  their  friends. 

"This  is  a  delightful  surprise  to  us,  as  well  as  to  you.  Do  not 
allow  our  entrance  to  interrupt  the  engrossing  theme  which  occu- 
pies the  thoughts  of  every  true  Southerner." 

"By  the  gods!  gentlemen,"  said  Colonel  Haywood,  I  assure  you 
I  have  something  to  say  respecting  our  purple  robe  of  power ; 
whether  its  ermine  shall  retain  its  hereditary  sanctity  or  whether 
its  spotless  purity  be  draggled  in  the  furrow  of  the  Northern  mud- 
sill. Pardon  me,  Messrs.  Bloome  and  Lambelle,  that  caste  is  as 
much  your  enemy  as  ours." 

The  ladies  fluttered  into  the  parlor. 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  679 

"Oh   Mav'  what  a  paradise  of   roses  1  they  are  dazzling.     The 
1  1      Wre'of  vour  -arden  must  have  been  shorn  !     The  whole 

'^Tl^^sZZTd'to  .he  piazza.     Colonel  Haywood's   sen- 

U,e  n^arnal^beciU  y  of  ^^:^^;:^  i^^^^^ 
will  become  a  sottish  ragged  l^^^J^?"' J^^^^  ^e^  ral  uprising 

to  even  the  hon^t  -^.te  ">-    Jh  re  would  be  ^^^^  p  ^      g 

iX^inLT^drr/e^outlAhe  country.    What  is  your  opinion, 

^^''^l'' fhink  your  conclusions  are  wisely  drawn.     In  the  premises, 
we  should  look  for  these  results  "  ^^.^  ^^^^  ^^^^^  ,,  ^^.^ 

S:  oVr irnTeTBtk  R^plVcanrfmendments  to  the  'con- 

,1  :r^  e  a^d  cU^aint  cou^  be^^^^^^^^^^ 
UZ'^tX^^^oi:':,  brWt  to  a  level  with   a  degraded 

'""^'('o' bf  iosTled  by  them  in  their  paths  and  to  be  intruded  upon 
K  I.ir  rude  vulgarity,"  added  Grace,  contemptuously.  "When 
'/e  Iccept  eSatriaSon  'you  may  be  ready  to  accompany  us,  Madame 
Lambelle." 


6So  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"I  have  not  considered  expatriation  the  worst  evil,"  Mrs.  Hay- 
wood. "  The  course  taken  by  myself  and  husband  towards  the 
South  has  subjected  us  to  much  social  ostracism." 

"Zaffiri,"  exclaimed  May,  "do  let  us  choose  some  country  where 
roses  flourish  all  the  year  —  some  balmy  tropical  shore." 

"  Ladies,  I  honor  your  patriotic  sacrifices,  bnt  don't  pack  trunks 
this  winter ;  we  are  waiting  to  see  which  way  the  hinge  of  Kansas 
turns.  If  we  get  possession  of  and  hold  Kansas,  it  will  be  worth 
thousands  of  millions  of  dollars  to  the  South." 

"  Colonel  Haywood  is  right,  darling  May,"  said  Augustus.  "  Do 
not  frown  over  Southern  destiny.  Kansas  is  the  Malakoff  fortress, 
the  taking  of  which  would  decide  our  victory  in  that  quarter  of  the 
Republic,  in  this  battle  of  abolitionism  —  a  battle  in  which  from 
three  to  six  states  are  the  prizes  to  be  lost  or  won  to  the  South." 

"  Mr.  Lambelle,  I  have  been  out  to  Kansas  since  we  met,"  re- 
sumed Colonel  Haywood.  "  I  was  present  at  the  sacking  of  Law- 
rence." 

"  Colonel  Buford,  from  Alabama,  has  taken  a  Southern  regiment 
to  Kansas,  to  establish  Southern  claims,  I  believe .'' " 

''  He  has.  They  were  recruited  mostly  in  South  Carolina  and 
Georgia.  The  Carolinians  under  Captain  Wilkes,  and  a  company 
from  Florida  under  Titus.  There  has  been,  and  will  be,  hot  work 
there.  Buford's  regiment  will  give  no  quarter  to  the  Abolitionists. 
It  will  clear  them  out  with  hemp,  bowie-knife  and  bullets.  They 
are  the  boys  to  use  them.  They  will  subjugate  Kansas.  There's 
a  paper  established  under  Missouri  s  patronage  called  the  Squatter 
Sove?'eig?i.     This  is  one  of  its  early  paragraphs, — 

•'  'We  will  continue  to  lynch  atid  hang,  tar  and  feather  and  drown 
eve7'y  white-livered  Abolitiojiist  who  dares  to  pollute  our  soil  I T  " 

"  Colonel  Haywood,  it  would  afford  me  great  pleasure  to  listen 
to  your  description  of  the  sacking  of  the  town  of  Lawrence,"  said 
Zaffiri,  "  if  I  am  not  asking  too  great  a  favor." 

May  and  Mrs.  Dentelle  joined  in  the  request. 

''The  pleasure  would  be  mine,  ladies.  I  assure  you,  I  am  never 
weary  of  recounting  the  victorious  occurrences  of  that  day. 

"  For  several  days  before  the  attack  there  was  parleying  on  both 
sides.  Lawrence  asking  whys  and  wherefores,  and  answered  by 
the  demands  of  General  Shannon.     His  pretext  was  the  enforce- 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  68 1 

ment  of  the  territorial  laws,  while  the  true  design  was  to  ^  wipe  ouV 
Lawrence — 'the  citadel  of  Free  State  principles.'  Now,  I  will 
show  you  how  gloriously  Lawrence  was  'wiped  out' 

"  On  the  morning  of  the  twenty-first  of  May  last,  General  Atch- 
inson  (U.  S.  Senator  from  Missouri)  led  the  Platte  County  Rifles 
up  to  the  west  of  Lawrence  ;  the  United  States  Marshal,  Donald- 
son, with  Colonel  Buford,  commanding  the  Georgians,  Carolinians, 
and  Alabamians,  halted  on  Mount  Oread,  on  the  east  of  that  ken- 
nel of  Abolitionists  —  Boston,  named  Lawrence." 

The  force  estimated  at  about  eight  hundred,  marched  down  the 
hill  and  formed  a  hollow  square.  General  Atchinson  made  a 
speech,  saying  they  would  go  in  and  test  the  strength  of  that 
d— md  Free  State  Hotel  ;  they  would  teach  the  Emigrant  Aid 
Company  that  Kansas  shall  be  ours  !  I  respect  his  closing  words  ; 
"  Come  on,  boys  !  now  do  your  duty  to  yourselves  and  your  Southern 
friends.'  Your  duty  I  know  you  will  do.  If  one  man  or  woman 
dare  stand  before  you,  blow  t}m?t  to  h — //  with  a  chunk  of  cold 
lead." 

"  That's  the  spirit,"  ejaculated  Augustus,  joining  his  father  and 
the  other  gentlemen  in  clapping. 

"  Weil,  they  arrested  two  prisoners,  and  then  demanded  the  sur- 
render of  all  the  cannon  and  Sharp's  rifles  in  their  possession, 
through  General  Pomeroy,  with  five  minutes  time  by  the  watch  to 
decide.     One  cannon  was  surrendered. 

"  On  the  nineteenth,  Shannon  had  declared  their  arms  must  be 
given  up  to  the  posse,  and  that  the  hotel  and  printing-presses  must 
be  destroyed,  for  this  reason  ;  and  now,  gentlemen,  I  fear  your  ap- 
plause will  be  overwhelming  for  this  reason,  'else  the  South  Caro- 
linians will  not  be  satisfied.''  " 

Both  ladies  and  gentlemen  rose  to  their  feet  and  rendered  vig- 
orous and  prolonged  applause. 

"  Dear  Ralph,"  begged  Grace,  "  do  not  forget  to  relate  the  inter- 
esting particular  at  this  point.  I  declare,  Madame  Lambelle,  I 
cannot  ^sufficiently  admire  the  Southern  spirit  of  Colonel  Buford's 
men." 

Colonel  Haywood  resumed,- — 

"  The  Free  ^tate  office  was  destroyed  with  a  will,  and  its  types 
thrown    into   the  river.      The    tvpes    of    the  Herald   of  Freedom 


682  WHITE    MAY,    AND    DLACK   JUNE. 

office  were  thrown  into  the  Kansas,  and  the  press  broken.  The 
flag  of  South  Carolina  was  hoisted  first  on  this  office,  but  soon  re- 
moved to  the  hotel." 

"  Do  Ralph,  allow  me  to  interrupt  you,  in  order  to  describe  this 
flag  to  the  ladies.     You  may  have  seen  it,  Mrs.  Dentelle." 

"  I  have  not  seen  it,  Mrs.  Haywood." 

"  ITie  ground  is  blood  red,  with  one  white  star.  That  is  the  star 
of  hope.  It  was  inscribed  on  one  side  with  '  Southern  Rights,' 
and  on  the  other  with  the  glorious  name  of  *  South  Carolina  '  in 
black.  I  assure  you,  that  deep  incarnadine  banner  was  consecrated 
in  Charleston,  by  woman's  prayerful  solicitations,  and  its  inspira- 
tion was  fulfilled  when  it  first  gave  its  folds  to  the  Kansas  breeze, 
above  these  doomed  nests  of  Abolitionists." 

"  We  emulate  your  devotion  to  that  beautiful  symbol !  "  replied 
Mrs.  Dentelle.  The  '  State's  Rights  Hotel '  ought  to  have  fallen 
under  its  potent  spell,  like  the  walls  of  Jericho  under  the  spell  of 
rams  horn's." 

"  It  fell,  nevertheless,  under  -a  spell  more  powerful  than  rams 
horns  —  the  Southern  yell  I  Cannonading  had  no  effect,  nor  kegs  of 
powder  in  the  cellar.  Colonel  Titus  of  Florida  ordered  the  hotel 
to  be  fired.  Fires  were  set  in  every  room.  I  had  the  honor  of 
setting  one  myself.  The  walls  of  the  hated  den  fell  in  the  seeth- 
ins:  wrath  of  flames." 

"  Was  it  a  rude  structure  1 "  asked  May. 

"  No,  madam,  very  fine.  Its  furnishing  cost  ten  thousand  dollars  \ 
it  was  the  finest  hotel  west  of  St.  Louis.  Before  firing  it,  our  boys 
ransacked  its  stores,  cupboards,  and  cellar.  They  supplied  them- 
selves royally  with  cans  of  fruit,  sardines,  oysters,  wines  and  cigars. 

''  From  the  plunder  of  private  houses,  our  boys  clothed  them- 
selves." The  colonel's  voice  lowered.  "  I  confess,  Dentelle,  my 
heart  ached  for  the  ragged  condition  of  our  troops  ;  a  few  scanty 
thousands  were  parsimoniously  doled  out  by  the  South.  It  is  en- 
tirely inadequate.  W^e  don't  compete  with  the  Northern  Emigrant 
Aid  Societies,  which  contribute  hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars, 
to  equip,  send  out,  and  colonize  their  emigrants  in  Texas." 

"  But,  Haywood  my  friend,  Kansas  is  left  unaided,  not  so  much 
by  the  penuriousness,  as  from  the  poverty  of  the  great  bulk  of 
our  people,"  resumed  Dentelle. 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  683 

"  I  know  :  the  whole  course  of  national  legislation  has  tended  to 
divert  money  from  the  South,  which  leaves  her  scant  of  funds  for 
every  public-spirited  purpose."  , 

"  They  should  have  found  other  valuable  articles  besides  cloth- 
ing in  private  dwellings,"  said  Mr.  Lambelle.  "  To  the  victor  be- 
long the  spoils." 

"  They  did  so.  They  investigated  trunks  and  wardrobes  ;  they 
carried  off  letters,  drafts,  money  and  apparel  of  ^  both  sexes.  Ah  ! 
I  have  a  package  of  letters  here,  in  my  pocket." 

He  drew  them  forth,  broke  the  cord  that  bound  them,  and  toss- 
ing them  about  among  the  ladies,  said, — 

"  Accept  a  memento  of  '  Southern  Rights.'  "  ^ 

"  I  esteem  this  letter  a  most  precious  gift,"  said  Zaffiri. 

"  I  too,"  said  May  ;  "  but  let  us  peruse  them  at  our  leisure.  Do 
Colonel  Haywood,  continue  the  narration." 

"  You  would  have  been  amused,  Madam  May,  to  have  witnessed 
the  picturesque  appearance  of  our  boys.  In  lieu  of  sashes,  they 
wore  about  their  waists  heavy  curtain  cords  and  tassels  taken  from 
the  hotel ;  they  carried  about  in  their  hands  pieces  of  broken  niir- 
rors  thrown  from  the  windows,  surveying  themselves,  and  adjusting 

their  adornings." 

"  They  marched  about  with  silk  and  satin  dresses  on  their  arms, 
their  pockets  stuffed  with  varieties  ;  they  crushed  trinkets  and 
daguerotypes  under  their  heels  ;  I  took  from  one  of  the  men  a 
rar^  and  elegant  mosaic  brooch,  as  a  souvenir  for  Grace." 

"  Have  you  it  here  ? "  asked  the  ladies  eagerly, 

"I  regret  it  is  in  Charleston.  It  equals  any  mosaic  I  have  seen, 
even  in  Rome." 

Colonel  Haywood  proceeded. 

"  I  was  walking  with  Colonel  Titus  when  he  ordered  a  store  to 
be  broken  into.  He  said,  '  /  t/wik  there  are  Sharpe's  rifles  in 
there  !  Stave  her  in,  boys,  if  she  is  locked  1 '  They  broke  in  the 
windows  with  the  butts  of  their  guns,  and  crawled  through." 

The  warning  bell  rang  for  dinner.  The  ladies  about  retiring  ex- 
pressed regret  that  the  interesting  narration  of  the  colonel  should 
be  so  abruptly  broken. 

"  Fly  away  to*  your  chambers,  fly  away,  white  doves  !  "  replied 


684  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

the  colonel,  with  gallantry.     "  Time  enough  hereafter.     June,  bid 
Charlotte  attend  her  mistress." 

Left  alone  with  the  gentlemen,  he  grasped  Dentelle's  shoulder, 
by  way  of  emphasis,  and  said  with  an  exultant  smile, — 

"  I  have  not  unvaiied  to  the  ladies  a  fraction  of  the  reckless  and 
daring  bravado  of  our  boys.  I  feared  to  shock  their  nerves.  Why, 
our  troops  broke  everything  that  would  break,  and  burned  what 
they  could  not  otherwise  destroy.  They  sung,  swore  and  danced 
on  the  ruins.  Buford,  Titus  and  Wilkes,  gave  them  unrestrained 
license,  and  went  in  themselves.  They  rained  furniture  from  the 
windows  of  the  hotel^ — mirrors,  marble  top  idihXes,  fauteids,  beds 
and  toilet-setts  crashe'd  to  the  ground  in  a  mass  of  debris. 

"  A  party  of  Buford's  men  deliberately  fired  upon  some  ladies, 
sitting  upon  College  Hill,  west  of  the  town.  They  levelled  their 
guns  at  a  hundred  rods  distance  and  the  balls  went  whizzing  ! 
They  threw  down  their  guns,  swung  their  hats  and  shouted,  '  Hur- 
rah for  South  Carolina!  Down  with  Abolitisnists  !  Slavery  in 
Kansas,  by  G — d ! '  I  must  acknowlege  the  bravery  of  those 
ladies,  for  they  stood  still  and  faced  the  men  and  their  bullets. 
The  boys  picked  up  their  guns  and  levelled  them  again,  but  were 
prevented  from  firing  again,  by  one  of  their  number.  But  they 
went  up  the  hill,  singing  '  Katy  Darling '  and  '  Lily  Dale.'  " 

A  volley  of  laughter  from  the  colonel's  auditors  sanctioned  these 
outrages. 

The  ladies  returned.  Madame  Lambelle  went  to  the  table  on 
the  arm  of  Colonel  Haywood ;  May  with  Mr.  Lambelle,  and  Grace 
with  Augustus.  The  dinner  was  sumptuous  and  epicurean,  festive, 
and  sparkling  with  wine.  A  pyramid  of  roses  graced  a  costly 
epergne  in  the  centre,  a  rose  bouquet  was  found  at  every  plate, 
and  a  white-gloved  slave  waited  at  the  back  of  each  chair. 

During  the  last  week  of  Mr.  Lambelle's  stay  in  Savannah,  invi- 
tations were  received  from  Charleston  to  a  St.  Cecelia  ball.  It  was 
inaugurated  in  honor  of  Preston  Brooks,  the  idolized  vindicator  of 
South  Carolinaism  on  the  person  of  Charles  Sumner.  As  Zaffiri 
held  the  card,  bearieg  the  names  of  "  Mr.  Claude  Lambelle  and 
Lady,"  her  heart  beat  heavily.     She  said  mentally, — 

"This  terrible  pass  grows  narrower!  Charleston,' the  city  of  my 
bondage,  the  city  that  bound  dear  Father  Wemtze  to  the  whipping- 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  685 

post,  that  sold  away  to  New  Orleans  mauma,  my  roster  mother  ; 
Charleston,  that  gloats  over  the  martyrdom  of  Free  Speech  in  the 
bloody  body  of  Charles  Sumner.  That  city  was  not  in  my 
programme." 

Her  face  began  to  writhe  with  the  hatred  she  bore  it. 

"Pass  me  the  card,  please,  Zaffiri,"  said  her  husband. 

In  complying,  she  caught  from  his  eye  the  peculiar  look  which 
she  understood  as  a  gentle  warning.     He  read  aloud, — 

"  In  honor  of  our  disti?iguished  fellow- citize?i  and  representative, 
Preston  S.  Brooks  !  "  and  said, — 

"  Zrffiri,  this  ball  will  be  a  supreme  pleasure,  the  crowm  of  our 
Southern  trip.  I  have  many  friends  in  Charleston  whose  acquain- 
ance  I  wish  you  to  make." 

"Ah,  Zaffiri!  exclaimed  May,  "you  will  be  delighted.  A  St. 
Cecelia  ball  is  worth  the  attention.  None  but  the  creme  de  la  creme 
are  admitted.  Blue  blood  and  high  caste  are  the  talismanic  words 
that  swing  open  St.  Cecelia's  door.  The  intervening  time  will  be 
occupied  in  the  preparation  of  our  toilets  au  ball  delightful  !  ravis- 
sante  P^ 

On  the  evening  of  the  Charleston  assembly,  none  of  the  fair 
rotaries  of  the  dance  were  more  elegantly  or  tastefully  attired  than 
May  and  her  guest. 

Both  wore  Marie  Antoinette  style. 

Zaffiri,  in  maize-colored  satin  a  shade  deeper  than  her  harvest 
hair,  overlaid  with  bodice  and  train  of  torquoise,  blue  velvet  gar- 
nished with  rich  lace,  a  tiara  and  a  necklace  of  diamonds  com- 
pleted her  toilet. 

May,  in  white  gossamer  gauze  flecked  with  silvery  stars,  a  bod- 
ice and  train  of  rose-colored  velvet  lined  with  white  satin,  finished 
with  frills  of  costly  lace,  and  a  parure  of  opals  and  diamonds. 
She  was  the  cynosure  of  all  eyes ;  her  hand  was  sought  by  Caro- 
linas  noblest  sons. 

Madame  Lambelle  received  courtly  courtesy  and  distinguished 
attention. 

Among  the  gentlemen  who  hovered  about  her,  was  one  intro- 
duced by  Augustus  Dentelle.  He  was  past  middle  age,  his  hair 
was  gray,  and  his  rubicund  color  hinted  of  the  wine  cup  and  an 
epicurean  table. 


686  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Gallant  and  gracious  as  his  youthful  competitors,  he  obtained 
her  hand  for  the  set  forming  at  that  momentr  Zaffiri  gave  him 
the  tips  of  her  fingers  as  she  would  have  extended  them  between 
the  fangs  of  a  rattlesnake.  When  she  glided  through  the  mazes 
of  the  dance,  she  seemed  to  feel  the  subtle  poison  of  that  venom- 
ous serpent  weakening  her  nerves ;  but  she  maintained  a  smile 
above  the  pallor  of  her  face,  and  replied  with  becoming  grace  to 
his  gallant  phrases  and  insipid  flattery. 

When  the  strains  of  music  ceased,  and  all  were  repairing  to 
seats,  her  companion,  expressing  a  fear  that  too  much  fatigue 
overcame  her  or  that  •she  suffered  from  the  closeness  of  the  air, 
gently  persuaded  her  to  go  out  upon  the  balcony. 

"  The  stars  are  bright,"  he  said,  "  but  they  fade  before  the  lustre 
of  madam's  eyes." 

"Thank  you,  but  I  think  my  eyes  must  be  quite  spiritless  at 
present." 

"  Lean  upon  my  arm  more  heavily,  dear  lady  ;  angels  have  no 
ponderable  weight ;  therefore  the  charms  of  Madame  Lambelle 
cannot  be  burdensome." 

The  open  air,  and  the  conscipusness  that  her  emotion  was  veiled 
by  darkness,  restored  her  color  and  brilliancy  of  manner.  Stroll- 
ing up  and  down,  she  listened  to  the  encomiums  lavished  upon 
Preston  S,  Brooks,  and  to  the  polite  anathemas  poured  upon 
Charles  Sumner,  while  a  flood  of  uncontrollable  indignation 
surged  to  her  cheeks.  Pier  knight  stopped  before  the  blaze  of  an 
open  window,  and  turned  his  eyes  deferentially  upon  her. 

"Ah!  madame'has  recovered.  Her  entrancing  beauty  has  re- 
sumed its  throne.  I  was  right.  The  knightly  arm  should  never 
leave  a  fair  one  in  distress.  Allow  me  to  otfer  a  draught  of  wine." 
He  escorted  her  into  one  of  the  elaborately  furnished  anterooms 
where  her  husband  met  her  with  tender  inquiries. 

The  gray-haired  cavalier  bowed,  saying, — 

"  Very  reluctantly  I  transfer  my  beautiful  charge  to  her  hus- 
band. I  am  under  many  obligations  for  the  pleasure  Madame 
Lambelle  has  conferred  upon  me  this  evening.  Allow  me  to  sug- 
gest a  longer  rest,  sir,  for  your  lovely  wife." 

Her  partner  left  Claude  and  Zaffiri  to  themselves  and  joined 
the  assembly,  then  sweeping  about  the  hall  in  promenade. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  687 

She  gave  her  husband's  hand  a  clinging,  trembling  pressure. 
It  was  returned  with   masonic  fervor. 

Zaffirl,  thefiigtive,  had  danced  with  her  master! 

Claude  led  his  wife  into  the  grand  hall  to  a  seat  from  which 
could  be  seen  an  impressive  design  which  had  been  unveiled 
during  her  absence. 

In  large  letters  on  the  wall,  at  the  end  of  the  hall,  she  read  this 
extract  from  Sumner's  speech  on  Kansas. 

"  Ah,  sir  !  I  tell  the  Senator  that  Kansas,  welcomed  as  a  Free 
State,  will  be  a  ministering  angel  to  the  Republic,  when  South  Carolina, 
in  the  cloak  of  darhiess  which  she  hugs,  lies  howlingP 

Around  this  prophecy  were  wreathed  revolvers,  bowie-knives 
and  broken  canes,  intertwined  and  bound  together  by  the  hempen 
rope  of  the  hangman.  Over  all  was  looped  away  the  blood-red  flag 
with  its  one  white  star;  a  likeness  of  that  banner  of  outrage  and 
atrocity  which  waved  over  Buford's  guerilla  warfare  in  Kansas. 

"  Singularly  appropriate,'  ejaculated  Zaffiri. 

"  Singularly  so,"  responded  the  Misses  Fairland,  who  had  left 
the  promenade  to  join  Zaffiri.  "  The  surroundings  of  Sumner  s 
insulting  assertion,  are  indicative  of  Southern  sentiment.  That 
design  is  as  beauliful  as  the  carvings  of  cherubim  and  palm  trees 
and  open  flowers  on  the  walls  of  Solomon's  temple." 

The  elder  crossed  herself  before  it  as  a  devotee  crosses  herself 
before  the  shrine  of  the  Holy  Virgin. 

"  True,  sister,"  replied  the  others.  "  Senator  Brooks  ranks  with 
Leonidas  and  Spart'acus.  His  name  has  borrowed  a  sanctity  from 
the  deserved  humiliation  of  Sumner." 

"  Mr.  Brooks  has  certainly  won  for  himself  an  endutable  fame," 
said  Mr.  Lambelle 

"  Our  sentiments  coincide,  sir." 

The  conversation  turned. 

"We  must  see  you  both  at  '  Le  Grand  Palais,'  said  both  ladies. 
Two  days,  at  least,  cannot  interfere  with  your  timely  return  North." 

The  next  day  found  them,  with  May  and  Augustus,  at  the  plan- 
tation of  the  Fairiands.  The  luxury,  pleasures  and  garden  of 
Savannah  were  repeated  with  the  additional  phase  of  plantation 
slavery ;  the  rice  and  cotton  gangs,  the  negro  quarters,  possessing 
a  solemn  interest  for  Zaffiri. 


688  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

She  mentally  recounted  the  year  of  Lucy's  trials  at  "  Le  Grand 
Palais,"  after  her  marriage  with  William  Steele.  She  galloped  with 
May  and  the  Misses  Fairland,  over  the  very  forest  path  where 
Lucy  had  guided  her  pony,  solitary  and  despised.  She  furtively 
made  a  drawing  of  the  overseer's  house  to  carry  away  with  her. 

The  two  days  were  extended  to  four.  On  the  third,  May  in- 
sisted upon  a  visit  to  the  negro  church.  Augustus  accompanied 
Zaffiri  and  his  wife  on  the  gallop  to  the  humble  structure. 

Arrived  at  the  church,  Zaffiri  delayed,  atiended  by  the  footman, 
to  make  a  sketch  of  the  picturesque  building,  while  May  and 
Augustus  took  a  turn  in  advance  about  the  parsonage. 

In  the  midst  of  her  drawing,  a  hump-backed  man  came  from  the 
interior  to  the  church  door  and  bowed,  saying, — 

"God  bless  you,  lady.  This  is  none  other  than  the  house  of 
God,  and  the  very  gate  of  Heaven." 

She  knew  by  Lucy's  description  that  this  must  be  the  veritable 
Edmund  Stone  of  Cloudspire  noteriety. 

"  Good  morning,  sir,  are  you  the  pastor?" 

"  Through  the  grace  of  God,  I  have  been  chosen  to  bear  the 
Word  of  Life  to  Mr.  Fairland's  slaves." 

"  Do  you  find  satisfaction  in  delivering  the  gospel  to  these  be- 
nighted ones  ? " 

"  I  feel  that  I  am  walking  in  the  path  of  duty,  my  dear  lady ;  and 
that  my  labors  are  wonderfully  blessed  among  them.  We  have  a 
constant  revival  —  a  thronging  at  the  mercy-seat.  The  Savior  has 
no  respect  of  persons,  lady." 

What  a  sinister,  foxy  look,  thought  Zaffiri.  How  little  he 
suspects  I  know  his  hypocrisy. 

"  Do  you  think,  sir,  that  these  slaves  are  capable  of  understand- 
ing theological  doctrines  ?" 

"  No,  madam,  they  are  little  above  the  brutes,  in  capacity.  I 
teach  them  mostly  simple,  practical  deductions  from  those  sublime 
doctrines  ;  such  as  the  fear  of  an  avenging  God,  submission  to 
their  owners,  a  faithful  performance  of  their  tasks,  the  sin  of  pur- 
loining, the  duty  of  charity,  and  the  absolute  need  of  their  conver- 
sion and  baptism  into  the  kingdom  of  Christ." 

"  Do  you  think  this  furnishing  them  with  the  means  of  grace  is  a 
pa}  ing  investment  ?  "  asked  Zaffiri,  still  sitting  on  her  pony. 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  689 

"  I  know  it  to  be  so,  dear  lady.  The  amount  paid  me  by  Mr. 
Fairland  for:  my  salary  and  support  is  returned  to  him  ten  fold  in 
his  rice  and  cotton  crop.  They  fully  understand  that  bondage  in 
their  normal  condition,  by  the  decrees  of  God.  They  know  that 
they  are  under  the  curse  of  Canaan.  I  teach  it  to  them  daily 
with  the  open  Bible  in  my  hands,  dear  lady." 

"Then  I  should  judge  religion  is  the  slave- master's  most  effect- 
ive auxiliary." 

"  You  judge  rightly,  madame.  Religton  not  only  keeps  the  hoe 
moving,  but  it  prevents  runaways.  The  master  has  lost  but  two 
fugitives  since  I  came  here  —  a  black  woman  and  her  husband. 
They  are  more  than  glad  to  wait  for  an  entrance  into  the  golden 
streets  of^the  New  Jerusalem,  for  freedom."  With  a  sly,  crafty  leer 
at  ZafT[iri,"he  added,  "  I  convince  them  it  is  safer  to  wait,  than  to  be 
hunted,  caught  and  ironed  by  marshals  and  their  deputies,  in  the 
law-abiding  North." 

"  I  can  corroborate  your  assertions,  sir,  that  the  New  Jerusalem 
is  the  safer  place.  May  I  ask  if  my  friend.  Major  Fairland,  has 
recovered  those  two  fugitives?  Has  he  availed  himself  of  that 
avenue  of  remuneration,  the  Fugitive  Slave  Bill.'"' 

Edmund  Stone  clamped  down  the  open  board  steps  of  the 
church  with  the  agility  of  the  dwarf  of  "  Notre  Dame,"  and  hold- 
ing his  broad-rimmed  plantation  hat  in  his  hand,  approached  Zaf- 
firi.  He  hesitated,  as  if  rolling  a  sweet  morsel  under  his  tongue, 
then  said, — 

"  In  answer  to  your  kind  inquiry,  I  will  explain  that  Mr.  Fairland 
recently  made  his  loss  more  than  good  by  the  seizure  of  another 
woman  and  two  children  in  Pennsylvania,  for  Rachel,  the  fugitive. 
By  the  aid  of  the  law,  he  picked  up  a  black  man  in  Ohio  for  Guy, 
that  he  lost.  Guy  was  Rachel's  husband.  They  were  not  his 
slaves  ;  but  his  loss  is  made  good,  kind  lady.  We  believe  that  all 
of  African  blood  should  be  reduced  to  slavery,  and  the  Fugitive 
Slave  Bill  is  admirably  adapted  to  this  humane  purpose." 

"Receive  my  thanks  for  this  agreeable  information,"  said  Zaf£ri. 
"  I  am  glad  to  meet  so  worthy  a  pastor.  I  fear  Mr.  Dentelle  and 
lady  have  mistaken  the  route.  Footman,  can  you  guide  me  back 
to  the  family  ?  " 

"  I  knew  every  step  of  the  way,  mistress." 


690  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  Let  the  lady  return  by  the  river-road,  footman,  if  it  pleases 
her,"   suggested  the  pastor. 

"Thank  you,  it  pleases  me  well.     Good  morning." 

May  ran  down  the  flight  of  steps  from  the  piazza,  to  meet  Zaffiri 
on  her  return,  begging  a  thousand  pardons  for  leaving  her  so 
rudely. 

"Augustus  made  a  blunder  in  the  routes,  and  then  he  said 
the  footman  might  take  jiw/  back  before  us.  At  last  we  found  our- 
selves galloping  along  that  delightful  river  road."' 

She  threw  one  arm  carelessly  about  her  friend,  and  held  away 
her  long  riding-habit  with  the  other  hand.  Thus  they  slowly  as- 
cended the  stairs. 

"  I  came  by  the  river,  also,"  said  Zaffiri. 

"  We  discovered  three  graves  under  the  trees,"  said  May.  "  Two 
were  marked  by  plain  head-stones.  One  read,  '  William  Steele,' 
and  the  other,  'Willie..'  Mrs.  Fairland  says  William  Steele 
was  their  overseer,  and  was  stabbed  by  the  negroes." 

"  Why  did  they  murder  him  ?  "  asked  Zaffiri. 

"  He  was  awfully  cruel,''  said  May.  "  Mr.  Fairland  took  no  notice 
of  his  death,  for  the  overseer  deserved  it.  ' 

"Ugh!  1  would  not  allow  his  grave  to  disgrace  that  pleasant 
spot !  "  exclaimed  May,  shaking  with  nervous  horror. 

They  dropped  into  seats  on  the  verandah. 

"  We  are  going  to  have  a  grand  plantation  feast  to-day,  and 
plenty  of  royal  Southern  cheer,  Zaffiri.  A  dozen  rice  planters  and 
iheir  families  will  be  here.  We  are  to  have  music  from  Charleston, 
and  a  hop  to  night !  Oh  !  I  am  so  happy  !  " 

She  drew  a  sigh. 

'•  Happy  for  the  nonce  !  What  shall  I  be,  to-morrow,  when  I  have 
to  say  '  Farewell,'  to  you  ?" 

"The  very  cream  of  delight  has  been  crowded  in  these  four 
weeks,"  replied  iSIadame  Lambelle.  "  I  have  breathed  again 
tiie  air  and  basked  again  in  the  skies  of  Italy.  We  shall  meet 
again,  my  dear  May." 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  69 1 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

HOW  is  our  patient  this  morning,  Doctor  Clarendon  ?"  ^ 
"  Had  she  any  sleep  during  the  night  ? "  he  asked  in  a 
suppressed  tone. 

Zaffiri  shook  her  head.  ,         -n        /:     j 

The  sick  woman  rolled  her  head  restlessly  on  the  pillow,  fixed 

her  eyes  on  the  doctor,  and  said, —  ^    1    • 

"  Dayton,  is  everything  ready  ?  my  trunks  are  packed.  ^  Go  bring 
back  to  me  the  pretty  babe  and  her  nurse.  She  will  thrive  on  the 
sea  air,  and  grow  to  be  like  me.  Dayton,  does  she  look  like  me 
now  ?  Oh  !  she  has  the  same  golden-red  hair  as  I  had,  when  I  was 
an  infant »  It  will  be  auburn  and  wavy,  like  mine,  when  she  grows 
to  a  beautiful  young  lady.     See,  Dayton,  like  this  hair  of  mine,  that 

you've  kissed  so  often  !  "  ,,,,,..        j 

Her  weak  hand  essayed  to  reach  some  of  the  locks  that  strayed 

over  Uie  pillow.     She  drew  out  of  the  disheveled  mass  a  waving 

tress   of    auburn,  threaded  with   gold,  and   faintly  smiled  on  the 

doctor.  .     ^  '  ^A  . 

"  You  will  marry  me  then,  Dayton,  in  Europe,  as  you  promised  , 

before  the  altar  in  some  grand  cathedral,  solemn  and  dim  —  dim  — 

^She  sighed,  turned  away,  and  wept  the  gentlest  of  tears  — feebly 

wringino:  her  shadowy  hands.  ,  m     r.  ni  •   i 

"Thl^crood  old  doctor   retired  from  the  bed,  while  Zaffiri   bent 

over  the  |rieving  woman,  laid  her  cooling  palm  on   her  forehead, 

and  dried  her  falling  tears.  , 

"  There,  there,"  she  said  in  a  low  soothing  tone,     Dear   Ueles- 

tine,  Zaffiri  is  here.     Do  you  not  know  Zaffiri  ?  " 

Celestine  turned  her  vacant  gaze  upon  her,  and  answered,— 
"  Yes,  nurse,  bring  my  pretty  babe  !  my  baby  with  the  blue  eyes 

and  waxen  skin.     She  will  be  a  proud  child.     She  has  high  birth. 

She  is  the  picture  of  Dayton  !     Dress  her  nurse,  we  are  going  to 

XT  t   " 

"zaffiri  obeyed  a  sign  from  the  doctor,  and  both  left  the  chamber. 
Mary  watched  Celestine. 


692  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Zaffiri  and  Celestine  by  invitation  had  passed  the  winter  in 
Cloudspire,  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Link.  Since  her  visit  to  Savannah, 
she  hed  ventured  to  spend  the  winters  in  the  States  ;  the  coldest 
months  in  New  York  in  her  own  home,  but  during  the  summer, 
when  the  Southerner  was  omnipresent  in  the  North,  she  was  driven 
by  her  husband's  fears  to  Canada,  like  a  leaf  before  the  wind. 

Mr.  Lambelle  wishing  to  pass  most  of  the  winter  in  Washington 
and  Charleston,  she  had  the  opportunity  of  accepting  Mary's  re- 
peated solicitation  for  a  renewal  of  the  intimate  friendship  of  past 
years,  in  her  own  attractive  home. 

Celestine  had  been  with  Zaffiri  four  years,  and  their  affection 
was  mutual.  Whatever  sorrows  had  fallen  upon  her  earlier  years, 
the  grinding  memory  had  nearly  vanished.  Restored  to  her  former 
social  plane  by  the  love  of  Zaffiri  and  the  wealth  of  Mr.  Lambelle, 
a  degree  of  natural  vivacity  and  dignified  cheerfulness  returned. 
Madame  Lambelle  felt  that  the  happiness  of  her  Southern  friend 
was  in  her  keeping,  and  she  was  never  remiss  in  fostering  care. 

Celestine  accompanied  Zaffiri  on  her  numerous  journeys  \.ofdcs 
and  the  drama.  Her  dress  equaled  Zaffiri's  in  quality  and  richness. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  noble  bearing  of  Celestine  proved  a  protec- 
tion to  Zaffiri  from  the  suspicion  of  her  own  original  condition  ; 
for,  in  the  country,  Celestine  was  denominated  by  gossiping  coteries, 
"  The  rich  Southern  Lady."  In  fashionable  metropolitan  circles 
she  was  welcomed  with  fawning  cordiality  as  the  accomplished 
Southern  heiress  of  untold  wealth. 

The  doctor  and  Madame  Lambelle  withdrew  to  the  parlor  for 
consultation. 

"  Oh,  doctor  !  "  said  Zaffiri,  "do  you  think  this  sickness  will  ter- 
minate fatally  ?     She  does  not  recognize  one  of  us." 

"  That  is  not  strange  —  the  brain  is  affected  —  it's  the  nature  of 
the.  malady.  It  is  typhoid,  madame.  Our  climate  has  got  the 
better  of  her,  and  besides,  she  must  have  suffered  a  deep  sorrow. 
Poignant  memories  will  often  grapple  in  with  disease,  and  heighten 
its  violence.  She  must  have  sleep,  madame  j  ice  must  be  bound 
upon  her  head.  Do  not  check  her  incoherences  ;  her  sentences 
are  but  the  bubbles  of  a  disordered  mind.  Admit  no  one  to  her 
chamber  but  yourself  and  Mary.  Mary  is  like  an  angel  hovering 
around  the  sick-bed." 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  693 

"  How  long,  doctor,  before  a  change  will  be  perceptible  ?  "     •• 

"A  week,  perhaps  ;  meantime,  get  rest  yourself.  It  makes  no 
difference  now,  who  administers  care,  so  it  be  done  faithfully. 
When  reason  returns,  she  will  need  yoit^  madame.  The  sight  of 
you  about  her  will  be  better  than  all  my  nostrums." 

The  bandana  waved  a  truce,  and  both  returned  to  the  chamber. 

Celestine's  eyes  followed  Doctor  Clarendon  about  the  room. 

"  Oh !  Dayton,  you  have  grown  old.  Your  beautiful  locks  are 
white  with  age.  Cruel,  cruel  neglect !  Give  me  back  my  lovely 
child  !  my  innocent  babe  !  Why,  Dayton,  did  you  win  my  young 
heart  and  then  leave  me  to  suffer  alone  ?  I  had  no  fortune,  but  i 
had  proud  blood  and  birth.  You  robbed  me  of  my  child  —  oi  your 
child  !  Give  her  back !  I  am  alone  !  and  the  world  is  cold  !  oh  ! 
so  cold  !  " 

She  shuddered,  drawing  long  sighs.  The  good  old  doctor  has- 
tened away  with  directions  to  Mr.  Link  to  come  for  him  at  any 
time  he  might  be  needed. 

"  Go  !  leave  me  !  "  said  Celestine,  as  he  passed  out.  *'  Leave 
me,  Dayton  !  you  have  winnowed  my  life,  and  robbed  me  of  its 
sweetness  !  you  left  nothing  but  chaff  to  me  !  " 

For  days,  Zaffiri  and  Mary  listened  to  the  pitiful  promptings  of 
insanity  \  they  made  no  attempt  to  probe  the  mystery  of  her  delir- 
ium, but  waited,  unquestioning,  the  return  of  reason.  As  Doctor 
Clarendon  had  predicted,  after  a  v/eek  of  hallucination,  she  rallied. 
She  awoke  from  a  long  sleep,  and  said  to  Zaffiri,- — 

"  I  think  I  must  be  quite  ill  \  how  long  have  I  been  here  ? '  , 

"Two  weeks,  Celestine." 

"  I  think  my  mind  has  wandered ;  am  I  better  now  ? " 

"The  crisis  is  past.  With  perfect  quiet  and  patient  care,  you 
will  be  restored  to  health.  Doctor  Clarendon  says.' 

"What  day  of  the " 

"Do  not  talk  more.  It  is  the  sixth  of  March;"  and  Zaffiri 
signed  silence,  by  raising  her  finger  to  her  lips. 

About  the  tenth  of  April,  Celestine  was  able  to  depart  with  Zaf- 
firi on  her  journey  to  Canada. 

It  was  the  memorable  year  of  186 1.  Mr.  Lambelle  had  written 
his  wife  from  New  York,  without  signature,  accounts  of  his  obser- 
vations in  Washington  and  at  the  South.     He  was  present  in  Co- 


694  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

lunabia  and  Charleston,  at  the  convention  which '  passed  the 
Ordinance  of  Secession.  He  had  described  to  her  the  congratula- 
tions, the  huzzas,  the  jubilant  ringing  of  bells,  and  firing  of  artillery 
in  those  cities.  He  had  run  down  to  Savannah  and  witnessed  the 
parting  of  May  with  Augustus,  who  joined  the  first  company  of 
eighty  men  that  was  formed  to  march  to  Charleston.  He  had  seen 
the  palmetto-flag  raised  over  the  Custom  House  and  Post  Office  in 
Charleston,  and  wherever  he  had  traveled,  he  had  witnessed  the 
daily  preparatory  practice  of  squads  of  minute-men.  He  had 
heard  their  martial  tramp  in  Charleston,  by  night  and  day. 

He  had  been  in  the  Capitol,  at  the  admission  of  Free  Kansas 
into  the  Union  ;  and,  after  attention  to  his  business  in  New  York, 
he  was  to  return  to  Charleston. 

This  news  argued  favorably  for  the  close  of  Zaffiri's  expatriation. 
She  held  many  congratulatory  interviews  with  Minnie,  and  looked 
forward  to  a  day  of  release  from  the  thraldom  of  the  Fugitive  Slave 
Bill.  Paul  grew  young  again,  his  dark  eyes  were  illuminated  with 
a  new  light,  and  his  habitual  gravity  changed  to  unwonted  gayety. 

On  the  twenty-fifth  of  April,  Zaffiri  received  a  letter  from  Claude, 
which  set  the  house  in  general  commotion.     It  ran  thus, — 

"  My  dear  Zaffiri,—  I  have  made  my  last  journey  to  the  South.  Have  just 
returned  from  Charleston,  where  I  witnessed  the  redaction  of  Fort  Sumpter  by 
the  Nation  of  South  Carolina  !  It  was  a  fearful  sight.  General  Anderson 
and  his  men  marched  out  in  order,  the  band  playing.  He  gave  the  old  flag  a 
salute  of  fifty  guns,  and  hauled  her  down  with  the  firing  of  the  last. 

"Language  cannot  describe  the  frenzied  exhilaration  of  the  Charlestonians,  at 
their  bloodless  victory.  The  streets  were  thronged  with  enthusiastic  whites. 
Each  repeated  the  story  to  the  other,  with  rapture.  Bells  rung,  wine  flowed 
like  water,  and  the  prevailing  toast  was,  '  Danmatwji  to  the  Yankees:  I  believe 
they  intend  by  this  fratricidal  bluster  to  bring  the  North  to  their  knees.  Their 
terms,  enunciating  'Surrender  or  die,'  will  intensify  into  one  word,  'Surrender!' 
But  I  judge  the  day  of  compromises  is  over.  I  believe  Abraham  Lincoln,  our 
then  president-elect,  made  the  last  compromise  to  Southern  mobocrats  when  he 
went  through  Baltimore,  unknown  and  undiscovered,  on  the  twenty-third  of 
February,  like  a  hunted  fugitive  on  the  Underground  Railroad.  Zaffiri,  the  ter- 
rible ordeal  of  War  must  decide  what  a  few  words  of  Christ's  teaching  should 
have  accomplished,  long  ago. 

"  My  dear  wife.  I  consider  your  term  of  exile  at  an  end.  The  South  will  now 
hunt  the  white  citizens  of  the  North,  e7i  masse,  with  brigade,  regiment,  and 
squadron.  Arrange  to  leave  Canada,  immediately,  and  to  nestle  again  in  your 
own  happy  home.     I  consider  slavery  at  the  near  beginning  of  the  end.     North- 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  695 

em  troops  are  swarming  through  New  York  to  Washington.     I  shall  be  in 
Montreal,  in  three  days. 

•*  With  undying  affection, 

"  Claude." 

"What  news  from  the  South?  "  asked  Celestine. 

*'  Fort  Sumter  is  taken  by  South  Carolina,  which  act  virtually 
declares  war." 

"  You  cannot  suppose,  Zaffiri,  there  will  be  war  between  the  sec- 
tions ?  The  North  will  pacify  the  South.  The  South  are  a  fiery 
people." 

"  The  president  has  called  for  seventy  jRve  thousand  men  to  put 
down  rebellion.  Claude  writes  that  multitudes  of  armed  men  are 
swarming  through  New  York  to  Washington.  Celestine,  we  are 
going  now  directly  to  New  York  to  reside." 

"  I  believe  I  prefer  Canada ;  for  the  war  will  be  carried  on  in 
the  North.  Southern  men  all  declare  it.  Northern  cities  Vv'ill  be 
ravaged,  and  towns  destroyed;  the  whole  North  will  be  devastated. 
If  you  were  Southern  born,  Zaffiri,  we  might  take  up  our  residence 
there.  It  would  be  much  safer.  But  I  should  be  unwilling  to  part 
from  you  and  return  alone." 

"Would  it  surprise  you  to  learn  that  I  am  Southern  born  !  " 
asked  Zaffiri,  bending  over  Celestine,  and  peering  laughingly  into 
her  eyes. 

"  I  trust  there  is  no  mystery  in  your  life,  dear  friend,"  she  replied 
with  apprehension. 

"  My  life  is  an  enigma  which  has  been  solved  by  but  one  person. 
Celestine,  in  childhood  I  was  a  slave,  sold  on  the  auction-table  in 
Charleston." 

Celestine  looked  at  Zaffiri,  appalled,  then  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands  ;   tears  filtered  through  her  fingers. 

She  lifted  her  face  suddenly,  gazing  at  her  with  a  searching  look. 

"Zaffiri,  there  is  not  a  drop  of  colored  blood  in  your  veins." 

"  No,  Celestine  ;  I  am  pure  white,  and  of  high  birth ;  my  family 
name  was  '  Warham.'  " 

"  What  a  terrible  enigma  !  "  gasped  Celestine,  turning  very  pale. 
"  Dear  Zaffiri,  assist  me  to  the  sofa." 

Zaffiri  dropped  upon  the  carpet  by  her  side,  and  said  assur- 
ingly,— 


696  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

"Not  a  terrible  denouement !  Do  I  resemble  any  person  you 
ever  knew  ? " 

"  Do  not  question  me  ;  let  me  hold  the  respect  of  one  friend." 

"  Celestine,  let  us  shorten  this  agony.  I  know  all  the  secrets  of 
your  life  and  mine.  I  am  Dayton  Warham's  child.  I  am  the  pretty 
babe  you  asked  for,  and  wept  for,  at  Ivlary's  house  in  Cloudspire. 
Do  I  resemble  my  father  .? " 

Zaffiri  rung  for  Minnie.  Celestine  had  fainted.  When  she  re- 
covered, Zaffiri  was  chafing  her  hands.  Celestine  begged  her  to 
repeat  her  words  which  she  scarcely  heard. 

"  It  will  overcome  you  —  shall  I  not  defer  farther  conversa- 
tion ? " 

"  No,  no,  repeat  those  words." 

"  Zaffiri  is  the  pretty  blue-eyed  babe  you  asked  for,  and  wept 
for  at  Mary's  home.  You  are  my  beautiful,  high-bred  Southern 
mother." 

"  It  cannot  be  !  it  cannot  be  1 " 

The  bewildered  woman  sprang  up  to  a  sitting  posture. 

"It  is  not  possible  !  " 

"  Lie  down,  Celestine.  Rest  on  your  pillows,  and  step  by  step  I 
will  give  you  indubitable  proof." 

"  How  long  since  you  believed  this  ?  " 

"  I  knew  3'OU  to  be  my  mother  in  Savannah.  May  learned  your 
misfortune  from  Augustus,  and  confided  the  circumstances  to  me, 
not  drcajuing  that  she  had  given  me  the  last  precious  link  of  a  chain 
which  led  me  to  my  mother." 

"  Oh,  Zaffiri !  why  have  you  not  divulged  this  to  me  before  ? " 

"  Because  I  could  have  been  taken  back  to  slavery,  if  by  any 
chance  my  secret  had  come  to  light.  That  is  the  reason  why  I 
have  been  driv^en  to  Canada  ;  but  now  there  is  other  employment 
for  both  North  and  South,  than  the  rendition  of  fugitives.  Can 
you  endure  the  recital  of  the  strange  events  that  have  brought  us 
together  ?  " 

"  I  must  hear,  though  I  die  in  the  hearing !  " 

Zaffiri  recounted  her  escape  from  Charleston  ;  her  eductition, 
and  marriage  with  I\Ir.  Lambelle  ;  her  husband's  purchase  of  old 
mauma  in  New  Orleans ;  old  mauma's  connection  with  Dayton 
Warham  ;   his  marriage,  and  the  death  of   his  wife  ;  mauma's  care 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  697 

of  a  little  blue-eyed  babe  in  Charleston,  with  the  promise  of  free- 
dom ;  mauma's  sale  ;  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Weintze  and  his  wife  in 
sending  her  North ;  how  she  had  learned  in  St.  Louis  of  his 
scourging,  and  loss  of  property  j  how  jVIr.  Lambelle  \vent  to 
Charleston  and  brought  him  to  New  York ;  how  mauma  recog- 
nized him. 

Then  she  related  how  old  mauma  learned  of  Celestine's  mar- 
riage engagement  with  Mr.  Warham,  from  the  servants  on  the 
plantation,  and  how  Minnie  first,  and  May  afterwards,  had  given 
her  name  and  residence. 

"Minnie!  what  opportunity  had  Minnie  to  know  my  name  or 
my  past  ?  What  temerity !  She  must  have  been  ubiquitous  and 
enjoyed  a  perennial  youth." 

"  My  precious  mother  !  No,  Celestine,  I  will  not  address  you 
by  that  name  which  makes  my  heart  thrill,  till  you  are  convinced 
of  my  claim.  I  have  deceived  you  in  regard  to  Minnie.  The 
name  of  Warham  which  she  has  adopted  has  appeared  to  trouble 
you.  I  have  observed  the  shadow  that  fell  upon  your  face,  when- 
ever she  was  called  Mrs.  Warham.  Celestine,  do  not  be  startled, 
Minnie  'was  the  wife  of  Frederick  Warham,  Dayton  Warham's 
son." 

"  No,  dear  Zaffiri,  she  could  not  be  the  wife  of  a  white  South 
Carolinian.  We  do  not  allow  the  evidence  of  negroes.  South,  and 
you  see  her  first  assertion  is  false." 

"  Celestine,  have  patience  with  us  all.  I  have  been  educated 
North,  and  have  imbibed  sentiments  at  variance  with  Southern 
statutes.  I  think  Minnie  was  entirely  Fred's  wife.  He  loved 
Minnie  and  his  children.  He  chose  no  other  wife  ;  and  when  he 
died  he  bestowed  twenty  thousand  dollars  upon  herself  and  his 
two  boys.  That  amount  has  been  invested  by  Claude  at  the 
personal  request  of  Frederick.  Minnie  has  her  'free  papers,' 
signed  by  his  own  hand.  Allow  me  to  ring  for  Minnie  ;  she  will 
lift  the  veil  between  us." 

"  By  no  means,  Zaffiri !  There  is  no  necessity  for  proving  to 
me  what  the  tears  and  grief  of  nearly  a  lifetime  attests.  I,  dear 
Zaffiri,  can  unfold  to  you  more  than  Minnie,  or  May,  or  old  mauma 
included.  If  you  are  the  blue-eyed  babe  that  Dayton  Warham 
carried  to  mauma,  if  Mrs.  Weintze  has  assured   you  of  your  iden- 


698  *         WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

tity  with   that  babe,  then  Celestme  Channaire,  wronged,  disowned,  de- 
spised a?id penniless,  is  your  mother  J  " 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  again,  and  sobbed  aloud. 

Zaffiri  knelt  by  her  mother,  held  her  in  her  arms,  kissed  the 
delicate  hands  that  still  hid  the  dear  face,  and  wdth  an  utterance 
choked  by  tears,  said, — 

"Then,  as  old  mauma  and  IMamma  Weintze  corrobrate  each 
other,  Zaffiri,  the  fugitive  from  American  Slavery,  is  no  longer  an 
orphan  and  an  outcast.  Thank  the  merciful  Father!  My  adored 
and  honored  mother  shall  suffer  no  more  pain  that  her  daughter 
can  alleviate.  Believe  it,  precious  mother,  Zaffiri  is  your  long-lost, 
blue-eyed  babe  !  Claude  knovvs  all  dear  mother!  he'has  patiently 
waited  to  render  you  the  reverent  homage  of  an  affectionate  son. 
The  beautiful  bow  of  promise  spans  your  clouded  life.  Dayton 
Warham.  the  heartless  man,  who  added  a  blasted  young  life  to  the 
humiliation  of  financial  disaster,  has  passed  beyond  all  human  ken. 
The  last  link  between  your  past  and  the  present  —  his  son  Fredrick, 
has  followed  his  father.  Minnie  will  accompany  us  to  New  York, 
where  she  will  take  passage  for  France,  for  the  purpose  of  educa- 
ting her  two  sons.  The  name  of  Warham  need  not  receive  the 
slightest  allusion." 

''And  yet,  my  dear,  lovely  Zaffiri,  that  name  of  Warham  —  that 
one  name  would  have  been  to  me  a  beautiful  word  of  incantation, 
calling  up  around  me  the  full  fruition  of  my  most  ardent  hopes  and 
all  the  world  holds  most  sacred  to  woman." 

"  But  the  world  or  society  is  a  frigid  judge.  ■«lts  icy  regard  ap- 
proves only  a  specious  surface.  As  the  wife  of  Dayton  Warham, 
my  much-abused  mother,  the  fruition  of  your  ardent  hopes  could 
not  have  been  realized.  The  sanctuary  of  3'our  wedded  home 
would  have  had  a  cloister  of  tears  for  an  unhappy  wife.  I  beg  you 
to  think  yourself  happy  in  escaping  the  bonds  of  marriage  with  a 
man  who  could  become  intoxicated  with  the  dewy  sweetness  of  a 
trusting,  innocent,  girlish  love,  such  as  yours,  and  then  leave  you 
to  years  of  anguish  and  cruel  scorn.  A  man,  too,  who  could  cast 
his  own  helpless  infant, —  bone  of  his  bone,  and  flesh  of  his  flesh, — 
into  the  dust ;  and  with  his  spurning  foot  toss  her. to  the  auction- 
block  to  be  sold  —  a  slave. 

"  No,  no,  dear  Celestine.     I  insist,   marriage  would    not  have 


WHITE   MAY  AND   BLACK  JUNE.  C99 

J  U-.  „,M,rf.  T  declare,  vehemently,  that  I  repudiate  his 
changed  h.  "•  I^'^f  ^^'d^rate  wrong.  I,  who  picked  up 
r:aJ'ofplrebr°nL  Charleston  sua^^^^^^^^^^ 

speaker  kneeling  before  her  .^^^^  ^^^,^  ^^^p^^^  ^^^ 

the  advantages  of  have     the  poli^i  or  _^^^_     ^   ^^^.^ 

Zaffiri ;  you,  who  seek  to  .fff^fXal  appeal.  I  am  bewildered, 
claim  you.  I  dare  not  Y'^ld^Xrom  0  evintsseems  to  whirl  me, 
I  can  scarcely  breathe      ^  maelstrom  o  beautiful  vision, 

''Sr/'obedienee  is  henceforth  the  sweetest  pleasure  of  your 

'^c'elS'fdt^her  fi  pressed,  and  the  touch  of  lips  upon  her 
forehead.     Then  the  door  closed  "PO"  her. 

Zaffiri,  before  going  down  stairs,   tapped   at  M.nnie 

entered.  ■        -c-        „  alreadv  ?     Lay   everything 

"  Busy  with  P'-eparations  for  France  al-e^^y  y   ^  J^^  ^.^ 

^n:t:::rv^^^J^-/  Ss:^e-s:.ere  z  ^^. 

bt're°plamer  'stll^^^r^th  tlPennformation.   and 

requests  undisturbed  quiet. 
Zaffiri  wept,  and  continued,— 


700  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  I  find  in  my  heart  a  deep  affection  for  my  mother,  and  an  in- 
definable joy  at  her  almost  miraculous  restoration  to  me  ;  and 
these  feelings  have  increased  yearly,  while  I  was  faithfully  guarding 
the  secret. 

"  But,  Minnie,  I  can  never  cease  to  feel  a  horror  for  slavery,  and 
the  tenderest  interest  and  friendship  for  all  who  may  have  been 
its  victims,  be  they  black,  or  brown,  or  yellow  —  or  white  like  my- 
self. My  mother  cannot  harmonize  with  me  in  this.  She  has  been 
blinded  by  constant  contact  with  the  terrible  crime  of  human 
bondage.  Her  interests  have  been  bound  up  with  it,  and  she 
still  cherishes  the  un-Christ-like  pride  of  superiority  that  clings  to 
the  white  race.  These  sentiments,  alone,  will  divide  us  at  the 
present ;  but  I  leave  all  to  the  mollifying  influence  of  time  and  en- 
lightenment. I  consider  a  devoted  love  for  my  mother  compatible 
with  an  affection  for  my  fellow- sufferers  from  slavery." 

"  I  believe,  Zaffiri,  your  resolve  meets  the  approval  of  Heaven. 
If  my  dear  Fred  had  known  that  I  should  have  fallen  into  such 
consideration  as  you  have  shown  me,  he  would  have  been  relieved 
of  a  burden  of  dread  for  my  future  in  his  last  hours.  Where  shall 
I  find  the  unmistakable  respect  and  friendship  that  Zaffiri  has 
evinced  for  me  ?  " 

"  Minnie,  3'ou  will  find  it  in  France.  In  Europe,  the  negro  — 
the  real  negro  —  has  received  honor  from  crowned  heads.  At  the 
Uffize,  in  a  picture  gallery,  I  have  seen  three  paintings  of  the  Magi 
by  as  many  different  artists.  Two  were  painted  in  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury and  one  by  Albrecht  Durer  in  the  sixteenth.  -^One  of  these  kings, 
the  youngest,  is  a  full-blooded  negro.  I  have  also  seen  this  black 
king  in  Andrea  del  Sarto's  magnificent  fresco,  in  the  portico  of  the 
*  Annunciata.'  It  is  a  legend  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church 
History  perpetuates  this  negro's  honor.  The  portrait  by  Vasasi  of 
Alexander  Medici,  the  first  Duke  of  Florence,  shows  him  a  mulatto. 
For  further  proof,  in  the  cabinet  of  engraved  gems,  in  all  the  por- 
traits of  the  Medicean  family  are  seen  the  woolly  hair,  the  thick 
lips,  and  flat  nose  of  the  mulatto  duke." 

Minnie  indulged  in  a  little  incredulous  laugh,  and  asked, — 

"  How  did  Prince  Alexander  Medici  become  first  Duke  of  Flor- 
ence ?" 

"I  declare,  Minnie,  you  are  manifesting  the  same  want  of  failh 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK  JUNE.  70I 

in  color  that  tinctures  the  universal  American  minds.  I've  half  a 
mind  to  be  vexed  with  you.  But  there  are  no  arguments  so  good 
as  facts.  So  I'll  explain.  History  informs  us  —  mind,  now  — 
history  informs  the  world  that  he  was  the  illegitimate  son  of  Cardi- 
nal Giulio  Medici,  by  a  negress.  This  cardinal  became  Pope 
Clement  the  Eighth,  but  amid  pontifical  glory,  His  Holiness  did  not 
ignore  his  mulatto  son.  He  had  him  brought  up  as  his  nephew, 
and  in  1530  he  clothed  him  in  the  ducal  purple  of  Florence.  Then 
there's  the  grand  termination.  Charles  Fifth  could  not  have  de- 
spised color,  for  he  gave  his  daughter,  Margaret,  in  marriage  to 
this  same  duke  —  and  she  was  of  the  proud  house  of  Hapsburg  — 
and  to  show  further  that  Margaret  did  not  suffer  ostracism  from 
other  families  of  royalty,  her  second  marriage,  after  the  death  of 
her  mulatto  husband,  Prince  Alexander  Medici,  was  ratified  with 
Prince  Farnese  of  Parma  and  she  became  Regent  of  Belgium 
under  the  reign  of  her  half-brother,  Philip  Second  of  Spain." 

"  What  a  career  that  would  be  for  a  colored  man,  even  the  son 
of  a  Southerner,  in  this  Republic,  without  rank  or  pageant,  to  be- 
come even  the  governer  of  a  State.  I  will  go  to  Italy  during  my 
stay  in  Europe,  if  for  nothing  more,  to  inspect  this  Grand  Duke's 
portrait,  and  to  trace  his  lineage  in  the  Medicean  gems.  But  Zaf- 
firi,  that  transpired  long  ago  \  has  not  contempt  for  color  sprung 
up  in  later  years  .'*  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  President  Roberts,  of  Liberia,  a  mulatto^  and  an  in- 
telligent statesman,  dined  at  the  Lord  Mayor's  in  London  ;  and 
Baron  Damier,  a  black  embassador  from  Hayti,  was  received  in 
England,  admitted  to  diplomatic  parties,  and  the  public  receptions 
of  Queen  Victoria. 

"  In  France,  too,  the  French  Court  admitted  a  black  representa- 
tive of  Soulougue,  the  emperor  of  Hayti.  Observe  the  difference 
Minnie,  between  a  Monarchy  and  a  Republic.  Mason,  our  Amer- 
ican Minister,  was  present  at  the  French  Court,  on  that  occasion. 
An  Englishman  present,  pointed  Mason  to  the  Embassador  of  Sou- 
lougue, and  said, — 

"'What  do  you  think?' 

"  Mason  replied, — 

"  '  I  think ^  clothes  and  all,  he  is  worth  one  thousand  dollars  I ' 

"They  extend  their  property  right  to  the  white   race   as  well," 


702  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

said  Minnie,  ''when  a  Corsair  chance  offers.  If  you,  Zaffiri,  could 
be  herded  and  sold  with  African  slaves,  that  Mason  would  as 
gladly  set  a  price  upon  Louis  Napoleon,  as  upon  the  black  repre- 
sentative of  Hayti." 

'•  I  agree,  Minnie  ;  now,  compare  our  Congress  with  the  proud 
Court  of  France.  In  a  debate  in  the  Senate,  on  authorizing  the 
President  of  the  United  States  to  appoint  diplomatic  representa- 
tives to  the  Republics  of  Hayti  and  Liberia,  respective,  Davis  of 
Kentucky,  said  of  this  Haytian  ambassador,— 

*''VVell,  a  great  big  negro  fellow,  dressed  out  with  his  silver  or 
gold  lace  clothes,  in  the  most  fantastic  and  gaudy  style,  presented 
himself  in  the  Court  of  Louis  Napoleon,  and,  I  admit,  was  received. 
Now,  sir,  I  want  no  such  exhibition  as  that  in  our  Capitol,  and  in 
our  government.  Further,  (and  he  spoke  for  the  whole  South)  he 
had  no  objections  to  the  recognition,  by  oar  government,  of  the 
existence  of  those  two  Republics  as  independent  powers ;  he  had 
no  objection  to  commercial  relations  between  our  country  and  those 
two  republics,  nor  to  the  negotiation  of  a  treaty  of  amity  and  com- 
merce and  friendship  between  our  government  and  theirs.  To 
what  did  he  object,  then  t  To  reciprocal,  diplomatic  relations  be- 
tween our  country  and  theirs.  He  said  if  the  Republic  of  Hayti 
and  Liberia  should  send  a  full-blooded  negro  to  our  government, 
in  the  capacity  of  minister  plenipotentiary,  or  charge  iVaffairs^  he 
could  demand  that  he  be  received,  precisely  on  the  same  terms  of 
equality  with  the  white  representatives  from  the  Powers  of  the 
earth,  composed  of  white  people.  When  the  president  opened  his 
saloons  to  the  reception  of  the  diplomatic  corps  —  when  he  gave 
his  entertainments  to  such  diplomats,  the  representatives  of  what- 
ever color,  from  those  countries,  would  have  the  right  to  demand 
admission  upon  terms  of  equality  with  all  other  diplomats ;  and,  if 
they  had  familiesconsisting  of  negro  wives  and  negro  daughters, 
they  would  have  the  right  to  ask  that  their  families  also  be  invited 
on  such  occasions,  and  that  they  go  there,  and  mingle  with  the 
whites." 

"Oh,  my!"  laughed  Minnie,  **  how  ridiculously  absurd,  and  fas- 
tidiously select !  in  Washington,  those  Southern  Statesmen  !  At 
home,  they  would  have  wooed  those  same  Haytien  and  Liberian 
wives  and  daughters  with  peculiar  blandishments  1  " 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  7  03 

"An  analysis  quite  consistent  with  facts,"  answered  Zaffiri  ;  "  but 
I  think  this'dupUcity  is  drawing  to  a  close.  I  am  impressed  that 
the  taking  of  Sumter  is  the  first  act  of  Emancipation.  The  North, 
although  seeking  peace  b>  unhallowed  means,  has  a  strength  of 
resolve  the  South  has  not  sounded.  They  will  contest  for  the 
Union  ;  but  out  of  the  ashes  of  War  will  arise  the  Phenix  of  Free- 
dom for  all  bowed  beneath  the  yoke  of  oppression." 

"  I  wish  I  might  share  your  faith,  Zaffiri." 

"  Minnie,  I  propose  to  celebrate  the  firing  upon  Sumter,  by  a 
dinner  to-day.  My  mojher  will  remain  in  seclusion,  therefore  it 
it  can  give  her  no  pain.  Come  down  with  me,  and  let  us  arrange 
for  the  dinner  with  Paul." 

With  their  arms  thrown  carelessly  about  each  other,  the  two 
beautiful  women  descended  to  prepare  for  the  evening's  sacra- 
ment. 

The  sun  went  down  —  a  blaze  of  light  illuminated  the  dining- 
room.  The  long  table  was  laid  for  guests,  and  a  bouquet  of  rare 
hot-house  flowers  smiled  by  each  plate.  Over  the  centre  extended 
an  arch,  bearing  these  words  in  silver  letters  on  a  pale-blue  ground, 
'' The  first  gun  fired  at  Sumter r  This  arch  and  sentiment  were 
wreathed  with  evergreen,  rosebuds  and  callas.  Beneath  the  first 
arch,  which  was  very  high,  reaching  up  among  the  glass  fringes  of 
the  chandlier  which  dyed  its  waxen  lilies  with  prismatic  purples, 
burning  topaz  and  quivering  sapphires,  rose  another  arch,  supported 
by  pillars  —  a  triumphial  arch,  from  the  keystone  of  which  de- 
pended an  exquisitely  formed  floral  bell.  Upon  the  bow  of  the 
arch-triumphant  one  read  this  inscription,  '  The  Tocsin  of  Emanci- 

patmi.''' 

Zaffiri  and  Minnie  came  from  their  dressing-rooms  faultlessly  ar- 
rayed, in  the  richness  of  reception  attire.  They  were  in  the  dining- 
room,  engaged  in  rapturous  admiration  of  the  lovely  foreshadowing 
of  the  morning's  prophecy,  and  the  artistic  skill  in  which  Zaffiri's 
orders  had  been  followed. 

A  halt  of  carriage  wheels,  and  a  ring  of  the  door-bell  was  noticed. 
Every  avenue  to  the  dining-room  was  quickly  closed,  Zaffiri  re- 
marking,— 

"  Our  guests  are  all  here  —  how  troublesome  !  " 

Paul  summoned  Madame  Lambelle  to  the  parlor  without  cards. 


704  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

Entering  the  grand  saloon,  she  took  a  hasty  step  forward,  and  with 
an  arm  about  each  of  the  new  comers,  she  exclaimed, — 

"  Dear  me !  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Clarendon  !  what  brought  you  to 
Canada?" 

"You,  yourself !  "  said  Mrs.  Clarendon,  smilingly. 

"  We  came,"  said  the  doctor,  to  proclaim  the  year  of  Jubilee,  and 
to  set  the  captives  free.  War  is  declared  by  the  hostile  and  foreign 
nation  of  South  Carolina,  against  the  United  States !  This  is  the 
bcffinninsr  of  the  end.  The  exiles  will  return  to  their  hearthstones 
and  accept  the  sanguinary  terms  of  perpetual  amnesty." 

In  token  of  the  sincerity  of  his  proclamation,  the  red  bandana 
waved  a  salute. 

"  But  what  is  all  this  dazzling  splendor  of  diamonds,  velvet  and 
lace  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Clarendon.  "  Our  arrival  is  inopportune, 
Madame  Lambelle.     Give  us  no  attention  —  attend  to  your  engage- 


ment " 


"  I  will  do  so  with  your  permission  ;  the  dinner  hour  is  at  hand. 

There  will  be  sufficient  time  after.  I  cannot  express  the  delight 
I  feel  in  welcoming  you  under  this  roof,  and  at  this  precise  day 
and  hour.  I  can  scarcely  credit  my  senses,  that  I  see  your  faces, 
and  hear  your  dear  voices  !  " 

Zaffiri  runs:  for  a  servant  to  attend  her  friends  to  their  chamber, 
and  improved  their  absence  by  seating  her  invited  guests  at  the 
table,  that  she  might  usher  in  the  good  old  doctor  and  his  wife  to 
a  surprise. 

No  bell  was  rung  for  dinner,  from  respect  to  Celestine  ;  but  the 
doctor  and  his  wife  soon  entered  the  saloon,  where  Zaffiri  awaited 
them.  She  ushered  them  into  the  dining-room,  where  the  guests 
at  the  well-filled  table  were  conversing  pleasantly  till  the  appear- 
ance of    the  "  dear  madame,"  as  they  termed  Zaffiri. 

Upon  crossing  the  threshold,  she  addressed  all. 

"My  friends,  Madame  Channaire  is  suffering  under  nervous 
prostration  in  her  chamber ;  it  wdll  be  necessary  to  preserve  quiet 
in  our  celebration.  I  have  the  pleasure  of  presenting  Doctor  and 
Mrs.  Clarendon,  from  Cloudspire,  Massachusetts.  I  know  those 
names  are  very  dear  to  some  present ;  but  I  beg  the  favor  of  de- 
ferring congratulations  until  our  general  interview  in  my  private 
parlor." 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  705 

The  company  were  all  standing,  as  they  rose  immediately  upon 
the  doctor's  entrance.     Zaffiri  continued, — 

"  For  the  promotion  of  unrestrained  conversation,  I  will  proceed 
with  the  introductions." 

The  doctor  and  his  wife  remained  near  the  entrance,  and  silently 
bowed,  his  face  lighting  up  in  the  old  way,  with  the  eathusiasm 
which  the  unlooked-for  scene  inspired. 

"  Mrs.  Warham  and  her  two  children,  from  South  Carolina," 
said  ZafSri.  She  passed  on.  "  Paul  Snow,  from  the  same  State, 
an  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Link."  She  laid  her  hand  upon  the  stout 
shoulder  of  a  neatly  dressed  black  man,  whose  glad  smiles  were 
misty  with  emotion.  "Robert  Adams,  our  coachman;  his  wife 
and  three  children.     Mr.  Adams  is  from  Virginia." 

The  doctor  bowed  very  low,  and  furtively  cleared  his  sight,  by  a 
rapid  use  of  the  bandana. 

Zaffiri  passed  round  to  the  other  side  and  stopped  by  a  fine-looking 
mullatto,  wearing  upon  his  head,  more  upon  the  left  side,  a  black 
embroidered  velvet  cap,  with  a  mass  of  short  shining  curls,  un- 
covered, escaping  from  the  band.  A  handsome  brunette  wife,  as 
half  the  world  would  say,  with  wavy  hair,  was  by  him,  and  four  chil- 
dren beyond. 

"Marquis  Clarendon  and  wife,"  she  said,  "formerly  from 
Charleston,  recently  from  Philadelphia.',  She  placed  her  hand 
affectionately  upon  the  shoulder  of  the  children  respectfully, 
"Lucy  Clarendon,  Garrison  Clarendon,  Toussaint  Clarendon,  King 
Clarendon." 

The  doctor  accompanied  his  bow,  with  the  remark  that  he  hoped 
for  a  further  acquaintance.  That,  as  their  patronymic  indicated, 
their  lineage  must  have  had  some  connection  with  his  own. 

"I  am  sure  we  have  one  common  Father,  sir,"  replied  Mar- 
quis. 

The  doctor  and  Mrs.  Clarendon  were  seated  at  the  head  of  the 
table  before  the  smoking  meats,  to  which  Zaffiri  pointed,  saying, — 

"  Will  the  doctor  serve,  as  the  New  England  custom  is  ?  We 
have  no  servants  to-night.  Humility,  in  view  of  the  blessing  of 
freedom  and  equality  about  to  fall  upon  us,  becomes  this  feast  of 
commemoration.  My  friends,"  she  continued  her  gaze  along  the 
table,  "  let  us  serve  each  other." 


7o6  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

Zaffiri  took  her  seat  at  the  foot  of  the  board. 

A  low  hum  of  animated  conversation,  interspersed  with  quiet 
pleasantries,  heightened  the  enjoyment  of  the  profuse  and  elabor- 
ate entertainment.     The  festive  hours  lengthened. 

The  various  emotions  pictured  on  different  countenances,  while 
contemplating  the  sentiments  inscribed  upon  the  arches,  had  a 
curious  interest  for  the  doctor  and  his  wife.  Grieved  unbelief, 
patient  despair,  a  flush  of  hope,  a  smile,  a  tear,  a  shiver,  shadows 
of  bitter  memories,  a  gleam  of  manhood's  pride,  appealing  eyes 
suddenly  raised  and  meekly  dropped;  all  these  were  carefully 
noticed. 

Short  and  pertinent  speeches  closed  the  sitting  at  the  table. 
The  doctor  yielded  to  the  general  solicitation,  and  took  the  lead. 

"  ]\Iy  friends,  he  said,  "  I  cannot  but  remark  upon  the  appropri- 
ate device  that  arches  this  elegantly  spread  board.  '  The  first  gun 
fired  at  Sumter,^  I  believe,  is  a  whisper  of  Freedom  to  the  capti'e, 
from  the  Almighty  Throne.  The  guilty  record  of  the  past,  in  the 
judicial,  ecclesiastical  and  civil  departments  of  our  nation,  has  proved 
that  public  and  private  conscience  is  dumb  and  dead  ;  that  it  can 
neither  indicate  the  course  of  justice  nor  follow  in  the  path  of 
righteousness.  The  terrible  arbitration  of  war  will  decide  that 
slavery  must  go  down.  The  South,  blinded  and  demented,  is 
building  better  than  it  knows.  She  has  struck  the  first  blow  on  the 
temple  of  freedom.  Maintain  that  faith,  my  friends  —  the  sublime 
faith  in  the  eternal  triumph  of  justice  —  for-  the  lifting  up  of  the 
oppressed,  and  the  overthrow  of  the  oppressor." 

The  white-haired  old  doctor  received  his  "  encore  "  in  the  grate- 
ful looks  of  his  auditors,  which  rested  upon  him  like  a  blessing. 

Last  of  all,  Zaffiri  rose  from  her  seat.  Every  eye  turned  upon 
her  in  affectionate  homage.     In  a  low,  saddened  voice  she  began. 

"With  you,  exiles,  I  have  lent  a  straining  ear  to  the  cannonading 
of  Sumter.  I  have  been  shaken  by  a  tremor  of  hope  and  doubt. 
Out  of  it  all  I  have  been  borne  on  the  wings  of  a  foreshadowing 
faith  in  the  future.  Like  you,  I  am  a  slave  and  an  exile  from  my 
country." 

Astonished  by  this  avowal,  the  festal  radiance  of  the  scene  grew 
dim.     jMurmurs  of  "  no,  no,  no,"  interrupted  her. 

"  It  is  true,"  said  Minnie,  in  a  grieved  tone. 


WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  707 

"True  as  the  gospel,"  reiterated  the  doctor,  wrathfully. 

"  Like  you  I  have  been  sold  on  the  table  in  Charleston.  Like 
you  I  have  been  doomed  by  the  curse  of  Canaan,  to  toil  unpaid 
through  hopeless  years.  But  for  the  love  of  that  noblest  of  men, 
Claude  Lanibelle,  I  should  have  been  struggling  with  poverty  and 
a  stolen  liberty  for  my  daily  bread.  Like  some  of  you,  my  father 
was  a  Southerner,  rich  in  rice  and  cotton-fields,  by  robbery.  Like 
you  I  am  a  fugitive.  Madame  Lambelle  in  velvet  and  diamonds 
is  your  fellow-sufferer." 

Leaning  over  the  table  she  extended  her  fair  arms,  and,  trans- 
figured wiih  intent  compassion,  she  cried, — 

"  In  my  heart  I  embrace  you  all.  Believe  with  me  that  we  are 
to  be  free.  Believe  with  me  that  the  cannonading  of  Sumter  was 
the  musical  tocsin  of  our  emancipation." 

Minnie  led  the  way  to  the  private  parlor;  and  Zaffiri,  at  the 
entrance  to  the  hall,  on  the  way  to  her  chamber,  received  a  touch- 
ing expression  of  Paul's  respectful  sympathy.  He  sprang  forward, 
opened  the  door,  held  it  open  for  her  to  pass  through,  and  closed 
it  after  her.  This  was  a  slave  custom  which  Zaffiri  had  never  al- 
lowed to  be  practiced  towards  her. 

The  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Clarendon  found  themselves  in  the  midst 
of  an  attentive  circle.  He  drew  Robert  down  on  one  side  of  him 
and  Marquis  on  the  other  —  in  which  condition  he  and  the  red 
bandana  held  high  carnival  till  twelve. 

"Marquis,"  he  said,  "remove  your  cap  a  moment;  let  me  see 
how  those  shots  worked.  Ugh  !  that  is  an  ugly  scar  !  no  hair  at 
all  on  this  side  of  your  head,  and  the  tip  of  your  ear  gone,  too  ! 
Well,  it's  a  wonder  if  those  revolverites  don't  lose  some  of  their 
hair  and  their  heads  too,  in  the  coming  contest.  Vour  wrist  is  stiff. 
Marquis.     That  was  the  hand-cuffed  wrist  that  served  you  so  well." 

"Yes,  sir.  I  fought  my  way  to  the  river  with  that  hand-cuff;  it 
was  my  only  weapon." 

"Richard  and  Lucy  advise  you  to  return  to  Philadelphia.  You 
can  do  so  without  further  danger  from  kidnappers.  Our  govern- 
ment has  other  business  on  hand,  now."  He  drew  from  his  pocket 
a  plethoric  envelope,  and  placed  it  in  Marquis'  hand,  saying,  "  It 
contains  a  hundred  dollars  for  the  expenses  of  your  return,  from 
my  two  royal  children." 


708  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

The  next  morning,  the  chamber-maid  delivered  a  hasty  message 
to  Zaffiri  from  Mrs.  Channaire,  to  visit  her  room.  The  interview 
was  short.  Arm  in  arm,  they  entered  the  parlor,  where,  alone, 
were  the  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Clarendon. 

"  My  mother,  Madame  Channaire,"  said  Zaffiri,  with  emotion. 

"  My  daughter.  Pearl  Z.  Channaire  Lambelle,  Mrs.  Clarendon ! 
My  blue-eyed  baby,  doctor,"  said  Celestine,  joyfully. 

Hand-shakings  succeeded.  Lace  handkerchiefs  united  with  the 
aged  bandana  in  the  kindest  offices,  and  the  doctor  declared 
that  "  typhoid  "  was  a  most  mysterious  dispensation. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

"  '\  T  7E  have  had  a  busy  morning,"  said  Mrs.  Sterlingworth  to 
V  V  -Aira.  "It  has  been  quite  a  task  to  prepare  your  father's 
trunks  for  Charleston,  in  the  close  quarters  of  our  two  small 
rooms." 

"  It  will  be  quite  another  task  to  restore  order  without  a  North- 
ern convenience  of  cupboard  or  closet,  dear  mother." 

The  mother  and  daughter  were  standing  under  a  live-oak,  near 
the  door,  which  brooded  the  small,  newly-built  house  and  its  in- 
mates. In  its  shade,  they  had  just  exchanged  adieus  with  the  hus- 
band and  father. 

Fanny  Beame's  acquaintance  with  Friend  Sterlingworth,  at  West 
Elms,  resulted  in  a  life-long  attachment  and  marriage.  In  the 
early  part  of  the  war  he  received  an  appointment  by  the  govern- 
ment for  one  of  the  coast  islands  of  South  Carolina.  Fanny  and 
Afra,  a  blooming  g!rl  of  seventeen,  accompanied  him. 

After  the  evacuation  of  Charleston  by  General  Hardee,  Mr. 
Sterlingworth  was  immediately  transferred  to  that  city,  leaving 
Fanny  and  Afra  in  their  island  quarters,  for  one  month. 

"How  delightful  this  morning  air  is,  mother,"  said  Afra  ;  '"  how 
warm  and  balmy,  I  suppose  Alderbank  is  buried  in  snow,  now, 
with  the  temperature  dancing  about  zero." 

"  Yes,  Afra  ;  and,  but  for  this  terrible  war,  I  should  never  have 
seen   South  Carolina.      Always,  from   childhood,   I  longed   to  go 


WHITE   MAY   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  7o9 

South,  but  it  would  have  been  as  unsafe  for  your  father  and  I  to 
come  here,  as  to  have  traveled  among  the  hostile  savages  of  the 
Western  plains." 

Both  sat  down  upon  the  rude,  unbalustraded,  board  steps,  and 
fastened  their  enraptured  gaze  upon  the  scene  ;  upon  the  lofty  arch 
of  blue,  spanning  the  level  expanse,  unbroken  by  undulating  hill 
or  mountain  range ;  upon  silvery  clouds,  trooping  in  light  and  scat- 
tered masses,  seaward ;  upon  stretches  of  neglected  fields  without 
fence  or  boundary,  and  waving  with  a  harvest  of  sere  grasses ;  upon 
streets  of  white  tents  yielding  their  canvas  to  the  gentle  influence 
of  the  rising  breeze ;  upon  a  regiment  of  cavalry  horses  beyond, 
picketed  in  the  open  air;  upon  squads  of  the ''boys  in  blue," 
marching  away  to  military  duty  ;  upon  galloping  officers,  plungmg 
through  the  sandy  roads,  gay,  in  bright  uniforms  and  rattling  ac- 
coutrements ;  beyond  all,  upon  forests  of  feathery  pines,  leanmg 
against  the  soft  horizon,  swimming  in  distant  haze. 

They  listened  to  the  clear  notes  of  the  bugle ;  the  beating  of 
drums,  muffled  by  distance ;  to  fiery  and  impatient  neighings ; 
to  the  mutterings  of  cannon  on  the  Main ;  to  the  carol  of  a  bird 
in  the  green  oak  above,  and  to  the  short,  comical,  derisive  laugh  of 
spying  crows  skimming  over  camp  and  field. 

"  We  should  have  no  fear  to  stay  here  alone  till  father  returns 
from  Charleston,"  said  Afra;   "we  are  strongly  guarded." 

"I  have  no  fear  among  Northern  soldiers,  my  child  ;  bless  their 
brave,  sun-browned  faces  !  I  have  been  thinking  what  a  grand 
thing  it  is  to  come  South,  protected  by  the  United  States  army. 
Afra^  the  scenes  I  have  witnessed  on  these  islands  —  the  scene 
before  us  now  is  worth  all  the  scorn  and  contempt  we  have  suf- 
fered in  a  lifetime,  in  behalf  of  freedom,  and  the  rights  of  the  col- 
ored race.  In  youth,  I  had  an  earnest  desire  to  pass  my  life 
among  the  Asiatic  heathen  ;  to  become  a  missionary,  was  my  most 
ardent  wish.  That  privilege  has  been  granted  in  my  own  country, 
and  none  demands  such  service  more." 

"  I  have  become  attached  to  the  children  and  colored  people 
about  us,  mother.     It  would  be  a  trial  for  me  to  leave  our  school." 

"  This  people  are  equally  attached  to  you,  Afra,  although  otlier 
teachers  will  supply  our  place.  I  feel  a  deep  regret  in  leaving  the 
islands  for  Charleston.     The  patience  and  utter  forgetfulness  of 


7IO  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

past  wrongs  which  these  poor,  stripped,  hungry,  naked  freedmen 
exhibit,  is  a  marvel." 

"What  a  hue  and  cry  the  Southerners  made  about  insurrections," 
said  Afra,  "and  about  Northern  Abolitionists  inciting  insurrections. 
It  was  all  nonsense  !  In  the  first  place,  the  slaves  were  a  most 
submissive,  docile,  and  long-suffering  people,  and  in  the  next,  how 
were  Northen  letters,  papers  and  pamphlets  to  stir  them  to  re- 
resistance,  when  they  could  not  read,  even  the  first  letter  of  a 
word?" 

"  Afra,  *  The  wicked  flee  when  no  man  pursueth.'  The  slave- 
holder knew  that  in  every  human  breast,  there  is  an  instinctive 
yearning  for  Freedom.  He  knew  too,  that  every  act  of  his  was 
towards  the  repression  of  this  instinct.  The  phantasm  of  insur- 
rection sprung  from  his  own  guilty  conscience." 

'•'Ah,  well,"  laughed  Afra,  "the  South  has  met  insurrection  in 
an  unanticipated  quarter — in  the  uprising  of  the  whole  North!." 

She  clapped  her  hands  in  exultation,  and  added,— 

"Avery  different  insurrection  from  that  of  the  poor  negroes! 
but  one  no  less  destructive  —  an  armed  insurrection.  Look 
mother,  over  the  brown  fields,  there !  see  that  host  of  bayonets 
glittering  in  the  sun  !  " 

She  clapped  her  hands  again. 

"  An  armed  insurrection  to  put  down  an  insurrection  of  the 
slaves-masters,  Afra.  In  the  midst  of  it  all,  the  slaves  are  freed 
by  the  arbitrament  of  War.  Afra,  the  history  of  the  past  and 
present  of  our  Government  is  ridiculously  amusing  as  well  as  ab- 
surdly unreasonable.  About  twenty-five  years  ago,  more  or  less, 
Charles  G.  Atherton,  of  New  Hampshire,  a  follower  of  the  South, 
offered  a  resolution  in  Congress  on  the  abolition  of  slavery  in  the 
District  of  Columbia,  in  these  w^ords, —  'That  Congress  has  no 
right  to  do  that  indirectly,  which  it  cannot  do  directly:  This 
passed  the  House  by  one  hundred  and  seventy  yeas  to  thirty  nays. 
In  a  following  resolution  he  enlarged  upon  the  other, —  'That  Con- 
gress in  the  exercise  of  its  acknowledged  powers,  has  no  right  to 
discriminate  between  the  institutions  of  one  portion  of  the  States, 
and  another,  with  a  view  of  abolishing  the  one  and  promoting  the 
other:  That  passed  gloriously,  also.  Now  observe,  that  very 
thing  —  the  abolition  of  slavery  in   one  portion  of  the  States  and 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK  JUNE.  7II 

the  promotion  of  it  in  another  has  been  done  on  an  infinitely- 
grander  scale  than  it  would  have  been  in  the  insignificant  territory 
of  the  District  of  Columbia.  This  has  been  accomplished  —  the 
Constitution  and  Congress  to  the  contrary,  notwithstanding. 
Accomplished  by  the  fiat  of  one  man,  who  says, —  /,  Abraha7n 
Lincoln^  do  order  a?id  declare,  that  all  persons  held  as  slaves  within 
said  designated  States  aiid parts  of  States  are,  and  henceforward  shall 
be  free!  ^  He  promotes  slavery  in  thirteen  parishes  in  Louisiana, 
in  forty-eight  counties,  forming  West  Virginia,  and  also  in  seven 
other  counties  in  Virginia." 

''That emancipation  was  a  war  measure,"  replied  Afra,"  "and  we 
are  advocates  of  peace." 

"  We  are,  Afra,  but  it  seemed  necessary  to  inaugurate  an  arbi- 
trary power  vested  in  a  Commander-in-chief  of  the  Army  and  Navy 
of  the  United  States — distinct  —  and  more  absolute  than  the 
fossilized  Constitution  and  Congress,  both  of  which  remained 
to  the  last  insurmountable  obstacles   to  the  advance  of  Liberty." 

"  True,  mother,  some  power  was  wanting  to  proclaim  Emancipa- 
tion. Is  it  not  strange  that  the  Southerners  themselves  should  have 
been  the  creators  of  that  power,  by  rushing  into  civil  war  ?  " 

"  Strange  indeed  !  but  the  South  actually  was  the  creator  of  that 
kingly  arbitrary  power.  Volcanic  eruptions  often  throw  up  moun- 
tains, that  tower  against  the  sky  from  surrounding  levels.  So  by 
our  national  upheaval,  the  lofty  peaks  of  Disunion  offered  a  sub- 
lime pedestal  for  the  feet  of  our  President.  Maiestically  he  as- 
cended the  rough  escarpment,  till  standing  on  their  sulphurous 
summits,  above  the  States,  above  the  Constitution,  above  Statutes, 
above  Congress,  he  seemed  to  have  listened  at  the  Eternal 
Throne,  and  to  have  taken  counsel  from  the  Most  High  ;  for  he 
answered  to  the  mutterings,  fears,  and  reproaches  that  surged  be- 
neath his  dizzy  height, —  "  Whatever  shall  appear  to  be  God"s 
WILL,  I  WILL  DO  !'  and  from  that  Sinai,  Abraham  Lincoln  pro- 
claimed Liberty,  the  law  of  the  land.  Convoyed  by  a  nation's  love 
and  reverence,  his  name  will  descend  to  the  remotest  future.  Yes, 
Afra,  it  is  all  stranger  than  words  can  express.  How  little  the 
Southerners  thought  it,  when  through  their  newspaper  organs  they 
declared  '  The  fate  of  the  Southern  Confederacy  hafigs  by  the  ensign 
halliards  of  Fort  Sumter  T     Your  father  and  others  think  the  rebel- 


712  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Hon  is  nearly  subdued.     The  flight  of  General  Hardee  from  Savan- 
nah and  Charleston  seems  to  indicate  fear  and  weakness." 

"  What  a  superb  march  was  Sherman's  from  Atlanta  to  the  sea, 
mother!  Those  Northern  and  Western  soldiers  helped  themselves 
to  Southern  hospitality.  They  lived  on  the  fat  of  the  land. 
Think  of  the  beeves,  fowls,  swine,  rice  and  potatoes  they  consufned  ! 
I  hope  Thad  Buddington  lives,  and  we  shall  be  able  to  hear  the 
story  of  the  triumphant  march  from  his  own  lips," 

"  I  hope  so,  my  daughter.  The  city  of  Savannah  was  a  hand- 
some '  Christmas  present '  for  the  President.  You  know  Sherman 
said  in  his  dispatch  to  Abraham  Lincoln,  '  I  beg  to  present  to  you 
as  a  Christmas  gift  the  city  of  Savannah,  with  one  hundred  and 
fifty  heavy  guns,  and  plenty  of  ammunition,  and  also  about  twenty- 
five  thousand  bales  of  cotton.'  It  was  extremely  humiliating  to  the 
Georgians,  no  doubt ;  but  Afra,  darling,  the  morning  is  passing  — 
those  two  rooms  need  revision.  Here  comes  Bacchus.  Bacchus 
we  are  going  out  riding  this  afternoon,  to  make  some  farewell  calls. 
You  may  bring  '  Cotton  Ball,'  and  '  Chinquapin '  to  the  door,  about 
three  o'clock." 

"  I  will,  missis.     I  make  *  Cotton  Ball '  shine  for  Miss  Afra !  " 

The  furniture  within  was  scant,  but  more  than  sufficient  to  fill 
the  rooms.  A  small  unpainted  pine  table,  without  leaves,  was  set 
with  a  few  pieces  of  crockery,  brought  from  Alderbank,  in  trunks, 
bright  tin  fruit- cans  supplying  deficiencies.  Silver,  iron  and  wooden 
spoons  commingled.  One  black  stuffed  chair,  one  painted  North- 
ern one,  and  another  made  from  pine  boards,  with  a  much-worn 
rebel  settee,  found  places  on  a  bare  floor,  with  a  narrow,  unpainted 
pine  bedstead  made  on  the  island.  Trunks  were  piled  upon  each 
other,  and  saddles  hung  upon  the  rough  braces  of  the  walls.  One 
available  nook  was  occupied  by  a  miniature  cooking  stove,  furnish- 
ing many  a  Yankee  dish  from  the  hands  of  Fanny  and  Afra.  The 
new  tin  wash-boiler  answered  for  cupboard  and  refrigerator. 

"  Afra,  I  have  spent  many  happy  hours  here  with  you  and  your 
father.  These  apparent  inconveniences  have  lightened  our  labors  ; 
and  amidst  the  revelations  of  this  War  of  Progress,  all  else  has 
seemed  insignificant." 

Bacchus,  prompt  to  the  hour,  assisted  the  ladies  in  mounting  ; 
and  away  they  swept  past  the  camps,  where  many  a  young  soldier's 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  713 

eye  admiringly  followed  Afra,  and  her  pony,  over  the  brown  wil- 
derness of  fields,  through  forest  glades,  to  "Nightingale  Hall." 
As  they  passed  through  the  massive  arched  gateway,  walked  the 
ponies  slowly  through  the  shrubbery,  and  paused  under  the  green 
magnolias,  several  fresh  young  Northern  faces  saluted  their  arrival 
from  the  top  of  the  long  staircase  leading  to  the  piazza,  where  Col- 
onel Ashland,  years  ago,  welcomed  and  entertained  the  Rangers, 
after  hunting  excursions. 

"Ah  !  "  laughed  Afra,  "  you  teachers  live  up  among  the  tops  of 
the  trees  !  I  have  never  seen  a  house  so  high  !  "  And  she  reined 
"  Cotton  Ball "  gayly  between  the  brick  pillars  and  under  the  house. 

"  We  have  come  to  bid  you  goodbye  !  "  said  Fanny.  "  We  are 
going  to  Charleston." 

"  Dismount  then,  and  tarry  till  evening.  We  can  get  you  a  good 
supper  from  our  rations,"  said  a  cheery  voice,  descending  the 
long  flight  of  stairs.  We  can  give  you  bacon  ;  and  old  Elsie  cooks 
hominy  splendidly  —  with  sweet  potatoes,  fresh  eggs,  and  a  nice 
pound-cake,  baked  in  one  of  the  Southern  conveniences,  a  bake- 
kettle  ! " 

"  And  dried  apple  sweet-meats,  besides,"  said  another  rosy  girl, 
laughingly.  "  Colonel  Ashland  is  not  at  home,  nor  Cleopatra  ;  but 
we  will  do  the  honors  of  Southern  hospitality  for  them.  Colonel 
Ashland,  the  owner  of  this  fine  mansion,  is  oS  hunting  Yankees,  I 
suppose  ;  for  hunting  was  his  pastime." 

"  Dan,"  said  a  third  to  a  young  Freedman,  approaching,  "  take 
these  ladies'  horses." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Afra,  "  Colonel  Ashland  is  hunting  angels  with 
blood-hounds  in  Paradise  by  this  time.  If,  as  some  assert,  we  are 
in  Heaven  what  we  were  on  earth,  he  must  hunt  something  !  " 

"  Oh,  Afra  Sterlingworth  !  "  cried  one  of  the  young  ladies,  "  you 
shock  me  !  " 

Alfra's  eyes  sparkled  with  enjoyment,  as  she  replied, — 

"It  is  very  healthy  to  be  shocked  occasionally;  so  my  good 
mother  says,  here.  I  suppose  all  the  Southern  electrical  batteries 
are  in  use  at  the  bottom  of  rivers,  and  harbors,  in  connection  with 
those  most  Christian  instruments, —  torpedoes!  I  have  thought 
for  the  general  welfare,  to  convert  myself  into  an  electrical  ma- 
chine." 


714  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  Afra  is  as  radical  as  I  could  wish  her  to  be,"  replied  Fanny, 
with  a  smile  of  pride.  *'Dear  me,  what  a  delightful  wood  fire  on 
the  hearth  !  and  these  rooms  are  so  spacious  and  airy  !  How  are 
you  all  getting  on  ?  " 

"  Delightfully  !  We've  a  mule  and  cart,  and  hay  in  bale,  fur- 
nished by  the  officers,  and  a  fine  riding  pony." 

''Better  still,"  said  another;  "we  have  a  pocket  edition  of  a 
milch  cow,  that  the  soldiers  brought  from  the  Main  for  us;  and 
this  old  hair-cloth  sofa  is  a  great  comfort;  do  you  notice  that  wide 
notch  in  the  solid  mahogany  on  the  back?  That  must  have  been 
taken  out.by  a  Yankee  soldier's  axe." 

"  Very  well ;  I  hear  of  our  soldiers  cooking  their  breakfasts  with 
finelv-carved  piano-legs,  split  up  for  their  fires.  You  know  this 
furniture,  purchased  with  stolen  wages  from  the  slaves,  is  in  danger 
of  rough  usage." 

"  You  have  a  cook,  too,  I  think  you  said,"  observed  Afra. 

"Yes,  old  Elsie  needs  food  and  clothing;  we  pay  her  from  our 
rations.  Since  you  were  here  last,  Elsie  has  told  us  of  the  conduct 
of  Colonel  Ashland  towards  a  governess  he  once  employed  here. 
Her  name  was  Honora  Hudson.  She  died,  and  he  did  not  even 
condescend  to  attend  her  funeral,  but  went  off  hunting.  Elsie  laid 
Mrs.  Hudson  in  her  coffin  with  flowers,  and  the  servants  followed 
her  to  her  lonely  grave." 

"  Honora  Hudson  !  "  said  Fanny.  "  She  was  the  intimate  friend 
of  my  mother,  in  girlhood.  I  have  heard  her  often  speak  of  Ho- 
nora Hudson." 

"You  will  find  her  grave,  Mrs.  Sterlingworth,  where  that  church 
was.  Jt  is  in  among  the  sweet  gums.  He  took  her  danghter, 
Hattie,  to  Charleston  ;  and  no  one  knows  here  what  became  of 
her.  Colonel  Ashland's  house  is  occupied  by  Yankee  teachers, 
now —  a  fine  retribution  for  the  scornful  Southerner  !  " 

"  He  had  a  black  wife,  named  Cleopatra,"  observed  another. 
"  Dan,  who  took  your  horses,  is  Colonel  Ashland's  son.  What 
curious  family  histories  we're  learning !  " 

Thus  they  chatted  on,  till  the  time  for  departure.  Returning 
home,  they  stopped  at  the  ruins  of  the  small  church,  and  riding 
into  the  thicket  of  sweet  gums,  Fanny  found  the  grave  of  Honora 
Hudson,  and  reverently  read  her  name  upon  the  low,  half-hidden 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  715 

headstone,  leaving  upon  the  neglected  mound  the  sweet  flowers  of 
her  mother's  love  and  her  own  sympathy.  Nothing  was  left  of  the 
church  but  a  few  handfuls  of  mortar  and  some  fragments  of  brick, 
over  which  "Cotton  Ball  "  and  "Chinquapin"  stumbled. 

"  Afra,  this  church,  which  was  a  mockery  to  the  living  God,  was 
standing  entire,  when  your  father  first  came  to  the  islands.  Board 
by  board,  seat  by  seat,  beam  by  beam,  rafter  by  rafter,  and  brick 
by  brick,  it  has  all  been  carried  away.  The  soldiers  and  poor 
blacks  have  put  it  to  the  legitimate  use  of  comforting  the  body.  It 
never  gave  strength  to  righteous  convictions  —  never  fed  the  soul 
with  the  bread  of  life.  It  never  led  one  spirit  to  an  humble  aspira- 
tion after  Truth.  It  was  based  on  falsehood,  maintained  by  false- 
hood, and  fostered  falsehood  in  return." 

"  I  think  so,  mother.  In  its  downfall  and  disseverment,  it  has 
truly  aided  the  advance  of  ^he  age." 

She  slipped  from  her  saddle,  and  picked  up  from  the  debris 
among  the  grass,  some  mementos  of  "Eternal  Justice/' 

Other  days  found  Fanny  and  Afra  riding  over  familiar  and  be- 
loved spots.  At  one  time  they  galloped  miles  along  the  white 
beach,  bathing  the  ponies'  feet  in  the  pearly  fringes  of  incoming 
waves,  and  retouching  the  rare  Southern  pictures  to  be  borne 
away  in  memory  with  stronger  lights.  Again,  they  were  winding 
among  the  spicy  pines,  weaving  their  way  in  and  out  of  the  woof  of 
golden  shafts  that  shot  through  their  plumy  tops.  Again,  they  were 
halting  before  the  cabins  and  improvised  habitations  of  their  pupils, 
receiving  the  warm  and  grateful  "How  de's,"  and  taking  affection- 
ate leave. 

In  due  time,  the  steamer  on  which  they  took  passage  to  Charles- 
ton, crossed  the  bar  and  made  her  way  up  the  smooth  bay,  towards 
the  city.  The  Northerners  who  crowded  her  decks  were  busy  in 
scanning  the  forts  and  batteries  which  had  so  fiercely  opened  the 
fratricidal  war.  They  passed  Sumter,  a  dismantled,  misshapen 
mass,  pounded  to  pumice  by  cannon  and  mortar.  None  saluted 
the  battered  wreck  with  reverence  or  affection,  but  the  old  ruin 
was  shrouded  only  with  lowering  looks  and  exultant  indigna- 
tion. 

Far  up  the  bay  on  a  level  with  the  blue  waters  swimming  in 
the  violet   haze   of  declining  day,  lay   the  "  City  by  the    Sea,"  in 


7l6  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

the  humiliation  and  asphyxia  of  her  own  suicidal  destruction. 

"  Oh,  motlfer ! "  cried  Afra  with  enthusiasm,  "  how  beautiful 
Charleston  appears !  like  the  warm  Oriental  cities  I  love  so  much 
in  paintings." 

"  Beautiful  as  an  apple  of  Sodom !  fair  on  the  exterior,  but 
heartless,  Afra,  uttrely  heartless.  Count  her  numerous  spires 
glittering  in  the  sun— enough  to  have  led  double  her  population 
into  paths  of  rectitude.  Alas!  false  beacons,  every  one.  The 
full-blown  bladders  of  Southern  arrogance  have  been  pricked  in 
this  city  or  the  Sierlingworth  family  would  not  be  allowed  to 
land.     They  would  repulse  this  steamer  from  her  docks." 

"  Or,"  added  Afra,  *'  if  we  succeeded  in  landing  and  entering 
her  hotels,  they  would  bring  a  carriage  to  the  door  and  hustle  us 
away  again,  and  we  should  be  compelled  to  go,  to  save  ourselves 
from  their  prisons  or  scaffolds."  « 

The  steamer  came  alongside  the  wharf.  The  black,  rotten  tim- 
bers of  its  floor  showed  the  dark  gurgling  water  beneath,  except 
where  the  more  dangerous  spaces  were  overlapped  by  loose,  ill- 
shapen  planks.  Waiting  by  the  gangway,  were  a  fine  coach  and 
span.     A  lively  voice  said  laughingly, — 

"Welcome  to  Charleston!  Step  in  here.  I  am  delegated 
by  this  distinguished  city,  to  offer  you  its  generous  hospitali- 
ties ! " 

Amid  surprise  and  gladenss,  Fanny  and  Afra  seated  themselves 
in  the  coach  and  were  driven  over  and  around  caving  sand 
batteries,  jotled  over  rough,  ragged,  and  desolate  streets,  past 
gaping  walls,  and  rent  pavements  ploughed  by  Yankee  shells. 

"  Here  we  are,"  said  Mr.  John,  as  they  stopped  before  an  ele- 
gant, piazzaed  mansion,  standing  in  the  midst  of  evergreen  shrub- 
bery, purple  blossomed  wisterias,  and  rose-laden  climbers.  "  The 
people  of  this  establishment  have  had  the  great  kindness  to  vacate 
the  premises  for  our  accommodation." 

Within,  the  Sterlingworth's  met  as  warm  a  welcome  as  at  the 
wharf.     Mrs.  John  said  to  Fanny, — 

"  Enjoy  all  the  house  affords  ;  you  deserve  a  rest,  and  a  change 
from  those  two  small  stifling  rooms  on  the  island.  We  have  ser- 
vants at  your  command,  and  the  carriage  at  your  pleasure." 

Carpeted,   airy  rooms,    costly  furniture,  fine    china   and   glass, 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  *J1^ 

adorned  the   house.     A  few   days   afterwards,  Mr.  John  said   to 
Fanny, — 

"  I  have  any  number  of  fine  dwellings  at  my  disposal,  so  many 
that  I  hardly  know  which  to  select  for  myself.  Take  the  carriage  ; 
the  coachman  knows  the  streets,  and  will  drive  you  where  I  direct. 
Choose  from  these  houses  to  suit  yourself.  I  am  delighted  to  see 
a  staunch  abolitionist  like  you,  driven  at  your  pleasure  in  a  rebel 
carriage  about  the  streets  of  this  *  Nest  of  Treason,'  without  fear 
or  molestation." 

In  a  few  weeks,  the  Sterlingworth's  were  nicely  settled  in  a 
handsome  home,  filUed  with  every  necessary  luxury  of  furniture, 
and  other  equipment. 

Three  servants  left  Fanny  and  Afra  free  to  wander  about  the 
city,  and  to  become  eye  witnesses  of  the  devastations  which  met 
them  on  every  hand. 

"  Mother,"  said  Afra,  one  day,  "  lift  your  eyes  to  that  spire  —  a 
shot  or  shell  passed  entirely  through  it.  Mind  now  !  here  are  ugly 
breaks  in  the  wharf." 

Everywhere  within  Yankee  range,  the  walks  and  grounds  about 
buildings,  and  churches  in  particular,  were  strewn  with  fragments 
of  window-panes  to  be  "  measured  by  the  bushel,"  as  Afra  said. 

They  entered  the  slave-marts  and  looked  from  the  first  floor, 
riddled  and  splintered  beneath  their  feet,  through  the  stories  above 
to  the  blue  sky  where  shells  like  falling  meteors  had  explored  the 
guilty  iron-barred  rooms. 

Driven  in  the  "  rebel  carriage,"  they  jolted  over  scattered  paving- 
stones  of  East  Bay,  an  avenue  of  ruin  and  utter  desolation.  The 
commercial  marts  of  human  merchandise  stared  at  the  curious 
passer  like  grim  and  unfleshed  skeletons.  Ragged  and  window- 
less,  the  steps  and  alleys  rankly  overgrown  with  commonest  weeds, 
they  proclaimed  to  the  glad  hearts  of  Fanny  and  Afra  that  the  day 
of  retribution  had  at  last  come.  Weeds,  and  small  shrubs  spring- 
ing up  from  the  stone  window  sills,  found  nourishment  in  the  accu- 
mulated dust  and  rubbish  of  years. 

''I  think  we  have  found  the  American  Palmyra,"  said  Afra 
pointing  her  mother's  attention  to  a  small  thrifty  "  Tree  of  Para- 
dise "  upon  one  sill ;  its  green  pinnate  leaves  waving  pleasantly  in 


7l8  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

the  breeze,   and  seeming  to  say,   "  no  more   hideous  bargains  of 
human  beings  here." 

They  ascended  the  steps  of  the  battered,  marble  Custom  House, 
and  walked  over  the  remnants  of  white,  flated  columns  ground  to 
powder.  They  paused  upon  the  splendid  eastern  portico  and 
gazed  down  the  beautiful  bay,  pondering  upon  the  tears,  sighs,  sobs 
and  heart-breaking  agony  that  had  gone  down  its  glittering  path,  in 
the  course  of  the  inter-state  slave-trade  on  the  terrible  voyages  to 
New  Orleans. 

'•'  There  went  Paul  Snow's  love,"  said  Fanny  ;  "  and  there  went 
Zaffiri's  dear  old  mauma.  Afra,"  she  exclaimed,  "  when  a  nation 
rejects  conscience  and  the  claims  of  natural  rights,  righteousness 
wusthQ  bellowed  forth  from  the  cannon's  mouth.  Thank  God  !  I 
have  lived  to  behold  this  day.  Here,  mine  eyes  have  seen  Thy 
salvation.  Its  is  overwhelming.  The  scenes  in  this  city  produce 
upon  the  beholder  a  sort  of  sacred  vertigo." 

Each  held  a  bunch  of  grass  in  hand,  which  they  had  left  the  car- 
riage to  gather  from  the  pavements  of  the  streets.  In  doing  this, 
they  foraged  among  the  cows,  picturesquely  herded  in  the  thorough- 
fares, and  grazing  as  complacently  as  in  rural  campaigns. 

"  What  was  Jeff  Davis'  prophecy  about  the  grass  in  our  Northern 
cities  ?  "  asked  Afra. 

'•  At  Stephenson,  Alabama,  he  said  in  a  speech,  '  England  will 
recognize  us,  and  a  glorious  future  is  before  us.  The  grass  will 
grow  in  Northern  cities  where  the  pavements  have  been  worn  off 
by  the  tread  of  commerce.'  He  said,  also,  *  They  cannot  rear  the 
cities  which  took  years  of  industry  and  millions  of  money  to  build,' 
meaning  after  the  Southern  army  should  have  destroyed  them. 

"When  he  left  Jackson  for  Montgomer)'-,  he  said  in  another 
speech,  *  If  war  must  come  it  must  be  upon  Northern  and  not  upon 
Southern  soil,* 

*'  Alexander  Stevens,  the  Confederate  vice-president,  said  in  a 
speech  delivered  after  the  formation  of  the  rebel  government,  '  Its 
foundations  are  laid  ;  its  corner-stone  rests  upon  the  great  truth, 
that  the  negro  is  not  equal  to  the  white  man,  that  slavery,  subordi- 
nation to  the  superior  race  is  his  natural  and  normal  condition.' 
This,  our  new  government,  is  the  first  in  the  history  of  the  world, 
based   upon   this  great  physical,   philosophical,  and  moral    truth. 


WHITE    MAY   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  719 

He  also  said,  'The  new  constitution  (Confederate,)  has  put  at  rest 
foj-ever^  all  the  agitating  questions  relating  to  our  peculiar  institu- 
tion.' " 

"  Where  are  their  prophecies  now  ?  "  asked  Afra,  separating  the 
grass  in  her  hand  and  holding  it  more  carefully. 

"  In  the  tomb  of  Secession,"  replied  Fanny.  "  I  shall  press  this 
grass  to  send  to  our  Northern  friends.  I  shall  label  it  '  JeffDavis* 
prophecy  fallen  upon  Charleston,^  " 


CHAPTFR  XXXV. 

1SSY  PAISLEY  remained  in  Europe  two  years  after  Madame 
Lambelle's  return  to  Canada.  His  medical  studies  were 
completed  at  a  German  university,  with  increased  remittances  from 
his  father  who  had  learned  the  course  his  son  was  taking. 

Four  years  before  the  war  he  returned  to  his  American  friends 
in  Cloudspire,  finding  his  old  home  again  in  the  family  of  Squire 
Buddington.  Doctor  Clarendon's  eyes  were  wet  with  joy,  and  the 
red  bandana  performed  ample  service  when  he  first  took  Issy's 
hands,  declaring, — 

"  Doctor  Paisley  is  as  fine  and  polished  as  any  medical  professor 
I  have  ever  met." 

After  repeated  conversations  with  the  young  physician  upon  his 
course  of  European  study  and  his  attainments,  he  said, — 

"  Doctor  Paisley,  you  are  fitted  for  any  professional  position  in 
America.  You  have  digested  more  books  and  theories  than  I  have 
ever  seen.  I  am  old  and  worn  out.  It  would  be  the  happiest  act 
of  my  life  to  transfer  my  practice  to  you.  Would  you  have  courage 
to  make  the  attempt?  " 

"I  think  not,  my  good  friend.  Cloudspire's  prejudice  against 
my  color  would  outweigh  all  the  science  of  Europe ;  as  to  that 
matter,  most  places  are  alike,  and  prescriptions  for  the  few  friendly 
families  here  would  not  avail  for  my  support." 

"  I  have  been  thinking  deeply  on  the  matter,"  said  the  old  doc- 
tor. "  I  think.  Doctor  Paisley,  if  you  consent  to  my  plan  we  can 
outwit  this  rare  delicacy  of  taste  in  the  Saxon  tongue.     If  the  thou- 


720  WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

sand  and  one  patients  will  not  allow  you  to  take  their  pulse,  be- 
cause your  fingers  are  brown,  dose  them  without  that  formality. 
You  and  I  know  that  a  few  simple  causes  produce  a  multiplicity  of 
diseases.  Set  about  remedying  those  causes  by  a  few  preparations 
and  combinations  known  only  to  yourself.  For  instance,  get  up  a 
preparation  corrective  to  the  stomach  or  liver,  and  that  cures 
headaches,  dyspepsia,  biliousness  et  cetera.  Get  up  another  for 
lung  difficulties,  that  will  cure  coughs,  colds,  croups,  wheezing, 
whooping  coughs  and  that  terrible  spectre,  consumption.  Give 
these  preparations  a  high-sounding,  mystified  name,  box  and  bottle 
them  neatly,  and  I'm  vigorous  enough  yet  to  go  to  Washington  and 

get  them  patented  in  the  name  of  Doctor  Paisley,  graduate  of 

that  jaw-breaking  German  university  of  yours." 

Issy  laughed  incredulously. 

*\VVhy  bless  you,"  cried  Doctor  Clarendon  "  the  world  is  a  fool 
and  nobody  knows  it  as  well  as  a  doctor.  I've  given  bread-pills 
many  a  time  to  nervous,  scarey  women  who  would  be  sick  whether 
or  no ;  and,  Doctor  Paisley,  bread-pills  are  a  most  efficient 
remedy." 

Then  he  laughed  with  his  old  funny  importance,  run  his  fingers 
through  his  gray  hair,  and  asked  with  a  slap  on  his  young  friend's 
shoulder, — 

"  Doctor  Paisley,  will  you  make  the  trial  ?  Dose  the  world  — 
contrary  to  the  curse  of  Canaan,  the  Christian  church  and  the 
Constitution." 

'•  Well,  doctor,  I  will  take  this  week  to  turn  again  the  pages  of 
my  books,  and  if  for  nothing  more,  to  convince  you  of  my  gratitude 
and  love,  I  will  bring  to  you  a  written  list  of  different  compounds 
for  inspection." 

"Good,  Doctor  Paisley.  I  must  do  something  for  your  pros- 
perity before  my  demise.  The  manufacture  of  patent  medicines  is 
a  gold-bearing  business.  There  are  no  midnight  rides,  nothing 
abhorrent  to  the  sensibilities  in  that  kind  of  practice.  Suppose, 
now,  you  bring  your  books  down  to  my  office,  here,  and  do  the 
work  ;  I  shall  have  some  spare  time  to  devote  to  you.  Don't  take 
offense  because  I  mentioned  bread-pills.  I  know  that  everything 
you  do  will  be  scientific  and  worthy  of  my  efforts  in  your  behalf. 
Issy,  you  are   welcome  to  my  family.     We  are  too  much  alone. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  721 

Lucy  and  Richard  are  away  most  of  the  time.  Mrs.  Clarendon 
will  be  rejuvenated  by  the  history  of  your  foreign  experience  and 
the  cheerfulness  of  your  company." 

Issy  yielded  to  the  solicitations  of  both,  and  was  soon  domiciled 
with  the  doctor. 

During  the  first  evening  in  the  office,  his  patron  said, — 
"  You  see.  Doctor  Paisley,  at  my  house  you  are  nearer  to  a  cer- 
tain young  lady  residing  with  Mrs.  Beame.  I  can  give  you  a  ride 
to  Alderbank  occasionally,  and  at  other  times  it  will  be  an  invig- 
orating walk  for  you.  How  does  Miss  Addie  Hughes  meet  your 
wishes  ?  We  call  her  a  paragon  of  excellence,  besides  being  good 
looking." 

"  I  would  not  desire  to  make  any  change  in  Addie.  During  my 
four  years  absence  she  has  grown  intelligent  and  ladylike  beyond 
my  anticipations  " 

"  Do  you  love  that  girl,  Doctor  Paisley?" 

A  velvet  carmine  flushed  Issy's  face,  and  his  long,  silken  lashes 
hid  the  brightness  of  his  eyes  when  he  replied, — 
"  Addie  is  very  dear  to  me,  sir." 

"  Could  you  wish  her  joy  if  she  was  about  to  marry  a  stranger  ?  " 
"  That  will  never  be,  sir,"  was  the  quick  reply. 
"  Good,"  cried  the  doctor  ;  "  now  you're  all  right ;  "  and  he  fairly 
set   the  vials  on  the   shelves   rattling   by  his  happy,    uproarrious 
laughter. 

Dr.  Clarendon's  plans  and  prophicies  for  Issy's  success  were  all 
perfected  and  bore  golden  fruitage.  He  bore  back  from  Washing- 
ton the  necessary  patents,  and  went  from  city  to  city  to  initiate  the 
sale  of  medicines. 

Three  years  after,  Mrs.  Beame's  declining  health  rendered  it 
probable  that  Addie  would  be  left  without  a  protector.  Issy,  by 
the  advice  of  his  friends,  purchased  a  pleasant  home  in  West  Elms, 
with  the  funds  he  had  saved  from  his  father's  annuity,  and  the  ever- 
increasing  proceeds  of  his  medicine  sales.  Mrs.  Beame,  still  de- 
clining, desired  to  see  Addie  well  settled.  She  was  permitted  to 
witness  her  marriage  within  the  home  of  her  adoption,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  all  Issy's  dear  and  fostering  Cloudspire  friends.  After 
Fanny's  bereavement,  D^.  Paisley  made  his  young  bride  the  happy 
mistress  of  his  newly  purchased  hearth  and  home. 


722  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

During  t)ie  war,  he  enlisted,  a  surgeon  in  a  regiment  of  colored 
troops,  and  with  them  diified  away  to  Florida.  While  there,  he  was 
unexpectedly  cheered  by  a  call  from  Mr.  Sterlingworth,  with  his 
wife  and  daughter.  They  found  him  occupying  a  charming  South- 
ern house  surrounded  with  the  tasteful  comforts  left  by  rebel  fugi- 
tives from  the  approach  of  the  federal  forces  .'* 

"  Strange  !  strange  !  "  he  said,  after  a  cordial  greeting,  "  that  we 
should  meet  at  this  extreme  of  our  land!" 

"  Ah  !  "  remarked  Mr.  Sterlingworth,  "  the  government  has  use 
for  you  and  me  now.  We  were  brought  to  Florida  on  a  govern- 
ment steamer.  Uncle  Sam  is  pleased,  at  present,  to  give  pleasure 
trips  to  Abolitionists  !  " 

'•It  is  true,  he  showed  us  favors,'*'  said  Fanny.  "Our  pleasure 
trips  at  government  expense  cannot  equal  the  cost  of  a  half  dozen 
of  the  thousands  of  fugitive  slave-cases,  taken  from  the  public 
treasury.  I  think  the  government  should  give  Mr.  Garrison  and 
the  rest  of  us  a  trip  round  the  world !  " 

"  I  should  like  to  see  you.  Dr.  Paisley,  in  your  uniform  of  army 
blue,  and  official  badges,  but  you  are  quite  comfortable  in  dressing- 
o-own  and  slippers.     How  do  you  hnd    Caste,  in  the  army  ? " 

"  I  find  it,  sir,  especially  at  officer's  table.  If  I  had  not  learned 
in  Europe  the  utter  insignificance  of  this  American  display,  it 
would  be  annoying  ;  but  it  troubles  me  no  more  than  a  musquito's 
hum.  I  intend  to  appropriate  my  rights,  without  infringing  upon 
the  rights  of  others:' 

"  That  is  a  duty,  doctor,  to  which  I  am  happy  to  find  you  ad- 
hering," 

"  Where  shall  we  meet  again,  sir  ? "  asked  Issy,  at  the  close  of 

the  interview. 

"  At  Charleston,  I  trust.  I  believe  that  city  is  doomed  to  fall 
into  the  hands  of  Justice." 

Thus  they  parted,  each  maintaining  unswerving  faith  in  the  ul- 
timate triumph  of  Right. 

About  the  time  cf  the  occupation  of  Charleston  by  the  national 
army,  Issy  was  mustered  out  of  service,  and  impelled  by  that  in- 
stinctive love  of  the  place  of  one's  birth,  so  common  to  all,  he 
made  his  way  there.  There  his  wife,  Addie,  met  him,  and  he  ob- 
tained a  position  under  the  government.     A  fine  house  was  assigned 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  723 

them,  and  a  choice  of  furniture  from  the  abundance  unclaimed. 

He  sought  the  house  of  Doctor  Paisley,  his  father.  It  was  oc- 
cupied with  Yankee  officers  and  strange  servants  in  attendance. 
Federal  uniforms  passed  out  and  in  ;  the  halls  and  parlors  re- 
sounded with  clanking  swords  and  triumphant  cheer. 

One  fine  morning,  Issy  sauntered  into  the  commissary  rooms  to 
witness  the  destitution  of  which  he  heard  daily  accounts.  Among 
the  crowd  of  men  and  women  receiving  rations  from  the  enemy,  as 
the  Northern  army  was  styled,  Issy  observed  a  face  which  he 
thought  he  recognized,  though  changed  by  time  in  beauty  and  ex- 
pression. The  dress  of  the  lady  was  plain  nloummg,  m  a  style 
long  past.  She  gave  her  basket  of  rations  to  a  ragged  httle  col- 
ored urchin,  and  bade  him  follow  her. 

Issy,  curious  to  convince  himself,  stepped  carelessly  after  her, 
preserving  an  unsuspicious  distance,  in  the  rear.  At  the  corner,  a 
gentleman  met  the  lady,  and  accosted  the  boy. 

"  Do  you  go  to  school  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Do  you  live  with  her  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

Issy  drew  near. 

"  Put  down  that  basket  tnen,  and  come  with  me,"  the  gentleman 
continued.    ."  Education  is  free,  in  Charleston,  now  !  " 

The  lady  was  enraged. 

"  What !  "  she  cried,  "  do  these  lovvr  Yankees  take  our  servants 
from  us  ?  Do  you  mean,  wretch,  that  I  shall  carry  that  basket  of 
provisions  through  the  streets  ?  I,  a  daughter  of  Doctor  Paisley  ?  " 

The  gentleman  had  the  boy  by  the  hand.  The  basket  was 
dropped  on  the  walk. 

The  unknown  walked  away  with  the  child,  but  Issy  caught  a 
comical  smile  lurking  about  his  mouth  and  eyes.  He  advanced, 
and  bowing,  said, — 

"  Mistress  Valmonte,  I  am  Issy,  your  former  slave." 

Astonished  and  angry,  she  asked, — 

"  To  whom  do  you  belong  now  ?  No  !  I  suppose  you  claim  free- 
dom, smce  General  Hardee  abandoned  us  !  " 

"  How  is  Doctor  Paisley,  Ernestin  and    Corinne,  madam  ?  " 

"  My  father  is  dead.     This  war  killed  him.     Ernestin  has  given 


724  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

his  life  on  the  battlefield,  for  our  Southern  cause.  Corinne  is  with 
me,  in  poverty.  Oh  !  all  is  gone  !  "  She  stood  wringing  her  hands. 
"  My  beautiful  home  is  filled  and  defiled  with  defiant  Yankee  offi- 
cers, while  Corinne  and  I  have  no  where  to  lay  our  heads.  We 
are  shelrered  temporarily  by  a  friend  as  destitute  as  I  am.  My 
plantation  house  is  burned  and  my  negroes  refuse  to  obey  the  over- 
seer !     Issy,  take  up  that  basket  and  fo!Tow  me." 

Theresa  Valmonte  turned  and  strode  on.  Issy  smilingly  took  the 
basket,  not  in  the  spirit  of  obedience,  however.  He  had  intended 
to  offer  his  aid.  This  new  phase  of  freedom  pleased  him.  Madam 
Valmonte  ascended  the  steps  of  her  friend's  house,  saying, 
curtly, — 

"  Bring  up  the  basket  and  ring  the  bell." 

He  did  this  also,  and  then  said, — 

"  Mistress  Valmonte,  I  am  living  in  the  city  j  if  you  will  call  at 
my  residence,  I  may  be  able  to  assist  you." 

She  listened  to  the  street  and  number,  saying, — 

"  You  hire  the  kitchens,  I  suppose.  You  ought  to  help  me.  All 
my  slaves  ought  to  help  me.     I  tell  them  so.     You  can  go  now." 

He  turned  and  went  on  his  way. 

The  next  day,  in  the  twilight,  she  came  with  Corinne,  to  the 
side  gate  and  asked  for  Issy.  Being  shown  into  the  parlors,  she 
said, — 

"  It  must  be  a  mistake  ;  he  must  occupy  the  kitchens." 

"  Oh,  no,  madam,"  replied  Addie,  offering  seats.  "  Issy  will  be 
in  immediately." 

Addie  sat  down  herself. 

Madam  addressed  her  tartly.  "If  you  are  a  servant  in  the  fam- 
ily, why  do  you  sit  in  my  presence  ?  I  am  not  accustomed  to  have 
negroes  sit  with  me." 

Issy  entered,  heard  her  words,  saluted  and  sat,  also.  Haughty, 
starched,  and  silent,  he  eyed  both. 

Issy  opened  conversation.  "  Mistress  Valmonte,  allow  me  to 
explain  my  situation  here  j  there  will  be  a  better  understanding  be- 
tween us." 

"  Go  on." 

"  I  have  been  a  free  man  for  years  before  the  war.  In  the  North, 
I  have  been  educated,  and  through  the  kindness  of  friends,  have 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  ^2$ 

Spent  five  years  in  Europe,  in  the  study  of  medicine.  I  am  a 
physician,  although  at  present  I  have  a  position  under  the  Federal 
Government.  I  occupy  this  /loiise,  not  the  kitchens.  I  am  mar- 
ried; this  is  my  wife,  Mrs.  Addie  Paisley." 

"  You  have  studied  medicine.  Voi^  have  studied  m  Europe.  A 
fabrication,  I  dare  presume.  Negro  testimony  is  worthless.  If 
you  have  this  house,  give  me  one  of  the  chambers  —  not  one  on 
the  street.  •  I  do  not  care  to  be  shocked  by  the  passing  of  negro 
and  Yankee  troops  !  " 

"There  are  two  large,  square  chambers,  Madame  Valmonte. 
You  can  choose  either.  Have  you  furniture  for  your  use  ?  "  said 
Issy,  nobly  passing  over  her  continued  insults. 

"  Not  a  piece  of  furniture.  I  have  been  robbed  of  all  by  this 
war,  thrust  upon  us  by  the  thirst  for  blood  which  posesses  those 
low-bred,  coarse  myridons  of  the  North.  No,  I  have  not  a  piece ; 
you  must  supply  it.  Have  the  room  ready  by  to-morrow  night.  I 
shall  come  then." 

She  arose  without  deigning  to  bestow  a  look  upon  Addie,  and 
went  straight  to  the  hall  door.  Persistently  kind,  Issy  held  the 
door  open  for  his  arrogant  sister  to  pass  out.  Addie  followed  them 
into  the  hall,  respectfully,  saw  the  white  hand  of  Corinne  seeking 
hers,  and  felt  the  warm,  silent  pressure. 

Madame  said  sternly,  without  turning  her  head,— 

"Ishmael,  send  a  conveyance  for  our  trunks,  at  eight  o'clock." 

When  the  door  was  closed,  Addie  re-entered  the  parlor  with  both 
hands    raised    in    angry   surprise,    and   broke    into    contemptuous 

laughter. 

"Hush,  darling  Addie,"  cried  Issy,  in  an  undertone.  'I  know 
it's  enough  to  provoke  a  saint,  but  the  pleasure  of  seeing  that  proud 
woman  humbled  in  my  house,  more  than  compensates  for  the  tow- 
ering insults  she  rains  upon  us  both.  I  feared  you  would  break  out 
in  s°ome  truthful  repartee,  in  reply  to  her  scorching  language.  I 
remembered  you  had  been  educated  by  Fanny  Beame,  but  you  was 
a  good  girl  and  kept  silent." 

Addie  perched  herself  on  Iss>'s  knee,  slid  her  arm  about  his 

neck,  and  said, —  j     •       t 

"  I  followed  you,  dear  Issy.     You  are  always  so  calm  and  wise,  1 

knew  you  must  be  right.     If  Mistress  Valmonte  is  your  sister  she's 


726  WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

7ny  sister  (00 ;  but,  I  declare,  I  would  not  do  one  thing  for  her,  only 
in  consideration  of  that  charming  Miss  Corinne  who  looked  so 
troubled  at  her  mother's  brusquerie.  Do  you  know,  Issy,  in  going 
through  the  street  door  she  reached  her  hand  back  and  pressed 
mine  ;  Mrs.  Beame,  dead  and  gone,  my  second  mother,  would  have 
turned  Theresa  out  of  doors,  in  a  twinkling." 

"  Corinne,"  replied  Issy,  "  was  always  a  lovely  child  before  I 
was  sold.  In  the  Paisley-house,  she  would  run  to  me  and  nestle 
down  in  my  arms,  lay  her  soft  rosy  cheek  against  mine,  and  say, 
'Corinne  love  Issy.'  She  would  divide  her  goodies  with  me; 
many  a  time  I  have  led  her  about  these  streets  chattering  as  sweetly 
as  the  birds  above  us.  But,  dear  Addie,  her  mother  is  all  wTong ! 
Slavery  was  all  wrong  !  It  has  hardened  her  heart  to  stone.  She 
is  coming  here,  neverthelesss,  and  let  us  both  try  to  practice  the 
Golden  Rule  which,  so  far,  has  guided  our  lives.  Theresa  will  be 
a  most  trying  occupant  of  our  house,  but  when  you  find  your  pa- 
tience waning  run  to  me  as  you  have  now,  and  I  will  brood  away  the 
wrongs." 

During  the  next  day  Issy  obtained  the  proper  military  order  for 
furniture,  and  at  night  the  chambers  were  handsomely  furnished. 
At  eight  o'clock  a  mule  and  cart  brought  the  two  trunks.  Mistress 
Valmonte  began  housekeeping  without  a  servant.  CcJrinne  had 
learned  to  make  tea  and  coffeft ;  braving  the  fretful  repinings  of 
her  mother,  she  tried  her  hand  in  the  kitchen  at  cooking  bacon 
and  hominy.  Addie's  servant  became  attached  to  the  bright  girl 
directly,  and  taught  and  assised  her  in  every  possible  way.  Cor- 
inne swept  and  dusted  their  chamber,  while  her  mother  sat  rocking 
and  murmuring  about  her  daughter's  soiled  and  blistered  hands. 
Mistress  Valmonte  went  out  every  day  to  call  on  some  of  her  old 
circle  of  friends.  Her  black  cotton  gloves  were  faded  and  worn, 
but  carefully  darned  by  Corinne 's  needle.  She  wore  the  same 
black  dress  from  week  to  week,  often  sponged  and  repaired  by  her 
dutiful  daughter. 

"On  one  of  these  occasions  Corinne  remaining  alone,  came 
down  to  the  parlor  to  sit  with  Addie. 

"  My  mother  will  be  absent  for  the  day,"  she  said,  pleasantly, 
"  and  I  wish  to  see  you  and  Issy,  to  beg  you  to  overlook  mamma's 
eccentricities.     She  declares  she  cannot  endure  the  noisy  play  of 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  727 

your  children   and  the  company  you  have,  and   she  is  resolved  to 
lecture  you  about  it." 

" Come,  sit  down,  dear  Corinne,"  said  Addie,  laughing.  ."Rest 
yourself  and  make  a  pleasant  day  of  it.  Your  work  is  hard  for 
you." 

Corinne  took  the  handsome  arm-chair  offered,  and  drawing  a 
sigh,  replied, — 

•'  I  confess  the  work  tries  me  because  I  am  so  ignorant  how  to 
do  it.     I  am  gaining,  however;  it  will  be  lighter  after  a  little." 

"  Now,  in  reference  to  your  mother's  requirements,  do  not  bor- 
row trouble  about  it.  Whatever  she  says  to  us,  will  receive  a  re- 
spectful notice,  without  the  least  offence.  I  know  my  two  children, 
Henry  and  Susie,  are  boisterous ;  we  consider  romping  and  laugh- 
ter healthy  for  them,  but  we  can  easily  modify  our  arrange- 
ments." 

"  You  are  so  kind,  Addie ;  believe  me,  I  appreciate  it.  I  have 
one  more  favor  to  ask ;  shall  I  do  so  ?" 

'•  Certainly,  Miss    Corinne.' 

"I  will  venture,  then.  Mamma  frets  over  the  coarse  brown 
sugar  we  get  in  our  rations,  and  craves  the  white  loaf  sugar  she 
used  to  have  for  her  tea  and  coffee.  She  also  craves  fresh  milk, 
in  lieu  of  the  canned  milk  we  are  forced  to  use.  Milk  now,  is 
twenty-five  cents  a  quart.  Addie,  we  have  no  money  but  the  Con- 
federate bills,  and  although  mamma  wi//  say  she  prefers  them  to 
greenbacks,  they  are  entirely  useless  for  purchase  or  exchange. 
They  are  no  more  value  than  so  much  wrapping-paper." 

Both  Addie  and    Corinne  joined  in  a  merry  laugh  over  the  Con 
federate  bills. 

Corinne   proceeded, — 

"  We  left  our  house  in  the  city  for  two  reasons.  It  was  in  range 
of  General  Gilmore's  guns ;  and  next,  because  our  plantation  had 
no  head  to  it —  it  needed  a  supervisor.  While  we  were  there 
warning  was  sent  to  us  that  Yankee  troops  would  pass  our  way  , 
mamma  and  I  hastily  packed  two  large  trunks  and  with  the  aid  ol 
two  faithful  servants,  carried  them  into  the  woods  and  buried  them 
Those  are  the  two  trunks  up  stairs  ;  one  is  filled  with  costly  cloth- 
ing and  mamma's  diamonds,  the  other  with  our  wearing  apparel 
and  some  silver.     The  rest  of  our  silver  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 


728  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

army.     Our  splendid  house  was  burned  to  ashes,  with  all   it  con- 
tained ;  also  our  barns,  rice  mill  and  overseer's  house." 

"  Addie,  I  blush  to  confess  the  reason,  mamma  was  beside  her- 
self. She  insulted  the  white  officers,  reviling  them  with  every 
Southern  epithet  at  her  command.  She  actually  spit  in  the  colored 
soldiers'  faces.  I  trembled  from  head  to  foot  and  besought  her  to 
be  calm.  She  would  not  listen.  The  soldiers  were  exasperated 
and  at  the  command  of  the  officers  applied  the  torch  to  all.  She 
took  the  black  whip  in  her  own  hands  and  lashed  our  slaves,  order- 
ing them  to  put  out  the  fires.  Then  the  officers  ordered  all  our 
slaves  to  follow  the  regiments  and  be  free.  Of  course  they  fled 
with  them  and  we  were  left  houseless  and  alone." 

"  We  are  here  now  with  only  those  two  trunks.  We  are  in 
mourning  for  Ernestin  and  Grandpapa  Paisley,  and  shall  probably 
remain  so  for  years.  Mamma  concluded  yesterday  to  sell  the  silk 
and  muslin  dresses,  bright  shawls  and  sacks  with  jewelry  and  two 
of  our  watches.  We  have  six  fine  gold  watches.  When  she  told 
me,  she  threw  herself  on  the  bed,  and  wept  and  moaned  herself 
into  a  hysterical  attack.  To  sooth  her,  I  begged  her  to  think  no 
more  of  it  and  promised  to  take  charge  of  the  sale  myself." 

The  tears  were  streaming  down  Corinne's  cheeks. 

"  I  know  none  of  our  acquaintances  will  purchase  them,  for  tney 
are  selling  their  own  and  there  is  no  money.  There  are  no  banks, 
stocks  or  savings  — no  factors  or  debtors  —  all  have  been  scattered 
to^the  winds.  Have  you  any  Northern  acquaintances,  Addie,  who 
would  be  likely  to  purchase  ?     Can  you  help  me  ?  " 

"  Do  not  weep,  dear  Miss  Corinne,"  said  Addie  tenderly,  stand- 
ing by  her  and  gently  fanning  her  flushed  face.  "  I  will  help  you. 
I  have  Northern  acquaintances  here,  and  will  ascertain  this  very 
evening.  Will  you  trust  me  with  one  of  the  watches  you  wish  to 
dispose  of  ?  I  will  take  it  out  with  me  and  bring  you  word  to-mor- 
row concerning  the  dresses  and  other  articles.  Leave  it  to  me, 
Miss    Corinne,  my  friends  will  assist  me." 

Addie  cast  a  glance  out  of  the  open  window. 

"  Issy  is  coming  ;  stay,  do  not  retire  ;  he  will  comfort  you,  dear 
Corinne  ;    he  is  strong  and  comforts  everybody." 

Issy  gave  his  wife  her  usual  kiss  and  bowed  low  to    Corinne. 

"1  am  happy  to  meet  you  below,"  he  said.     "Little    Corinne 


WHITE    MAY   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  729 

used  to  be  my  pet,  and  I  have  not  lost  my  affection  for  her  during 
these  long  years.  Our  dinner  is  on  the  table,  if  you  would  not  con- 
sider the  invitation  an  offense  I  would  ask  you  to  partake  a  freshly 
cooked  meal  with  us." 

"  Issy,  I  will  sit  at  your  table  with  pleasure.  Mamma  is  away 
for  the  day,  arranging  to  send  our  diamonds  to  London  for  sale, 
with  those  of  several  other  ladies." 

"  Never  mind.  Miss  Corinne,  diamonds  are  but  stones.  Tender 
hearts  are  better.  You  are  surrounded  by  the  latter  in  all  these 
strangers  v;ho  may  appear  so  callous  to  you.  Come  to  the  dining- 
room."     As  of  old,  he  held  the  door  aside  for  her  to  pass  through. 

Issy  kept  the  conversation  general  and  lively.  The  dishes  were 
Northern  and  varied.  Corinne  enjoyed  the  lepast  and  returned  to 
the  parlor  with  her  hosts. 

"  Issy,"  asked  Corinne,  "  may  I  inquire  who  was  so  kind  as  to 
defray  your  expenses  in  obtaining  a  medical  profession  ?  I  think 
the  Northerners  are  better  hearted  than  I  have  been  taught  to  be- 
lieve." 

"  Shall  I  inform  you.  Miss    Corinne  ?  " 

"Certainly,  Issy." 

"  My  dear  young  lady,  Northerners  are  kind,  but  so  are  some 
Southerners.  I  am  indebted  to  a  Southern  slave-holder  for  my 
education." 

••'  Pray,  what  Southerner  ?  " 

"  To  Doctor  Paisley,  miss.  Shall  I  relate  my  early  history  of 
which  you,  doubtless,  have  never  been  made  acquainted  ?  " 

"  I  beg  you  to  do  so." 

"  I  fear  to  shock  you.  Miss  Corinne,  but  Doctor  Paisley  was  my 
father.  He  loved  his  brown  son,  freed  me,  and  furnished  funds, 
annually,  for  my  education." 

Corinne' s  face  grew  pallid  ;  she  asked  hurriedly, — 

"  Does  mamma  know  this  ? " 

"  She  knows  I  am  her  brother,  and  that  she  mortgaged  me  for 
sale  because  I  was  her  brother.  Doctor  Paisley  was  fond  of  me. 
I  was  given  to  her  when  a  child.  Mistress  Valmonte  owned  me. 
When  Doctor  Paisley  learned  of  this  mortgage  he  bought  me 
secretly  and  took  me  North." 

"  Do  not  speak  of  it  to  mamma,  I  beseech  of  you,  for  my  sake. 


730  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

I  could  not  endure  the  result;  but,  Issy,  I  am  rejoiced  that  grand- 
papa was  capable  of  that  act.  Is  it  possible  that  you  are  mamma's 
brother  ?  "  she  smiled  through  her  tears.  "  Then,  Issy,  you  are 
Coiinne's   uncle." 

"  If  relationship  was  ever  claimed  with  slaves,  I  am  so,"  said 
Issy,  smilingly.  I  shall  never  bring  up  old  issues  with  Theresa 
Valmonte ;  and  certainly,  if  silence  is  my  shield  to  your  sorrow,  I 
promise  you  that." 

"  Thank  you,  Uncle  Issy.  I  am  astonished  beyond  expression 
and  can  speak  of  this  denouement  no  more  at  present.  Excuse 
me." 

She  withdrew,  and  returned  bringing  with  her  the  two  watches 
before  spoken  of,  saying, — 

*'  I  am  desirous  of  selling  these  as  soon  as  possible." 

She  placed  them  in  Addie's  care  who  went  directly  to  Issy. 

*  Are  they  pot  beautiful  ?  Mistress  Valmonte  wishes  to  sell 
them.  Perhaps  w^e  can  assist  Miss  Corinne  as  she  has  taken  the 
task  upon  herself." 

Issy  opened  the  larger  one  and  saw  engraved  within  "  Doctor  Z. 
Paisley.'"  The  case  was  large,  heavy,  and  of  fine  gold,  curiously  en- 
graven with  the  long-ago  coat  of  arms  of  his  ancient  ancestry. 
The  chain  was  heavy  and  of  modern  make,  to  which  was  attached 
an  elegant  seal  engraved  with  the  family  name,  "  Paisley." 

Corinne  sat  silently  weeping,  Addie  fanning  her  with  one 
hand  and  smoothing  her  fair  hair  with  the  other. 

'•  Has  Mistress  Valmonte  set  a  price  upon  these  watches?" asked 
Issy. 

"  One  hundred  dollars  apiece,"  Corinne    replied. 

Issy  left  the  room  for  a  few  moments,  and  returned  laying  one 
hundred  dollars  in  Corinne 's  lap. 

"  Oh  !  thank  you,  Issy  !  "  she  exclaimed.  It  is  appropriate  that 
you  should  have  grandpapa's  watch.  But  it  seems  cruel  to  take 
compensation  for  it.  If  we  were  not  in  absolute  want  I  would  not 
accept  it." 

"  Do  not  have  a  thought  for  me,  dear  young  lady.  I  am  in  cir- 
cumstances which  the  North  terms 'well  off.'  I  have  otic  never- 
failing  income — I  have  my  profession  —  a  paying  position  now; 
and,  besides,  I  own  a  pleasant  home  in  Massachusetts.     1   will  not 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  731 

wear  this  chain  at  present ;  your  mother's  sorrow  might  be  aggra- 
vated by  the  sight  of  it." 

"  Thank  you  for  that  consideration." 

"  Now,  Miss  Corinne,  if  you  are  happier  below  with  Addie,  than 
in  the  solitude  of  your  chamber,  we  entreat  you  to  remain.  I  must 
return  to  business." 

In  the  evening,  Issy  and  his  wife  called  upon  Mrs.  Sterlingworth, 
to  make,  if  possible,  a  sale  of  the  dresses.  Their  servant  followed 
after,  with  a  large  bundle  of  the  articles,  which  Addie  spread  out 
in  dazzling  and  attractive  beauty. 

"  The  price  of  human  beings,  and  unpaid  labor  !  "  said  Fanny, 
sorrowfully.  "  The  master  and  mistress  clothed  in  elegance  ;  the 
toiler  half-clad  in  coarse,  scanty  garments." 

"  But  who  thought,  Fanny,  we  despised  Abolitionists,  we,  the 
bane  of  Southern  minds,  should  ever  see  these  elegant  articles 
offered  for  sale,  to  lift  the  burden  of  destitution  from  the  proud 
slave-holder.  Let  us  buy  a  silk  dress  for  our  Afra,  tha  t  she  may 
be  clothed  in  the  garments  of  righteousness." 

"  Say  retribution,  Reuben,"  answered  Fanny. 

"  Synonymous  with  God's  righteousness,  Fanny.  Afra  dear, 
come  select  for  yourself." 

"  I  should  take  the  blue  silk,"  said  Afra,  "  and  this  embroidered 
white  lace  shawl." 

"  Very  well,"  replied  her  father ;  "  take  your  choice  Fanny.  The 
purple  and  brown  plaid  satin,  perhaps." 

"  Do  you  not  think,  Mr.  Sterlingworth,  you  could  find  a  buyer 
for  this  watch } "  asked  Addie  ;  and  this  shawl  cost  a  thousand 
dollars  at  the  opening  of  the  war.  Mistress  Valmonte  will  sell  it  for 
one  hundred  dollars." 

"  I  will  do  my  best,  Mrs.  Paisley,"  he  replied.  "  Their  war  has 
been  fruitful  of  sorrow  to  them  as  well  as  to  us." 

"  I,  too,  will  endeavor  to  aid  in  the  sale  of  these  articles,"  added 
Afra,  "for  the  sake  of  distressed    Corinne." 

Addie  drew  Afra  out  upon  the  piazza,  saying, — 

"  I  desire  to  impart  a  bit  of  information,  respecting  the  blue 
silk  dress  you  purchased.  It  was  bought  and  was  made  up  for 
Corinne  to  wear  at  a  large  party  given  to  Southern  officers,  by 
Mistress  Valmonte,  in  commemoration  of  the  downfall  of  Sumter's 


732  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

National  Flag  in  1861.  She  wore  it  on  that  occasion,  and  once 
afterwards  at  another  celebration  of  the  rout  of  the  Yankees  in  the 
first  great  battle  of  Bull  Run.  Her  brother  Ernestin  was  killed 
soon  after,  and  she  has  never  worn  it  since.  The  dress  is  histori- 
cal, Afra." 

"  Then  I,  an  anti-war  and  an  anti-slaverv  daughter  of  the  North, 
will  add  an  interesting  supplement  to  the  gay  chapter.  I  will 
wear  it  to  the  raising  of  the  triumphant  '  Old  Flag '  over  Sumter, 
on  the  approaching  fourteenth  of  April,  1865." 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

IN  April,  1865,  ^^^-  Sterlingworth,  coming  up  the  walk  to^ din- 
ner and  observing  Afra  in  the  garden  among  the  roses,  drew 
her  into  the  parlor  by  saying, — 

"  Come,  humming  bird,  leave  the  flowers  j  I've  a  pocket  full  of 
letters." 

Away  she  flew  and  playfully  thrusting  her  arm  through  his,  went 
up  the  marble  steps  with  her  father  He  bade  her  speak  to  Fanny, 
that  they  should  enjoy  the  letters  together,  and  the  three  were  soon 
busy  with  the  generous  mail. 

Fanoy  soon  held  up  hers,  exclaiming  with  animation, — 

"  Guess  !  " 

"  I  guess  Madame  Lambelle  ;  the  post-mark  is  New  York,"  said 
Afra  ;  "  Oh,  mother,  have  I  guessed  right  ?  " 

"  You  have,  Afra.  Claude  and  Zaffiri  will  be  here  to  witness 
the  raising  of  the  dear  old  flag  over  Fort  Sumter." 

Afra  finished  reading,  and  with  laughing  eyes  held  the  letter 
back  of  her  chair  and  said, — 

"  Guess  !  " 

"  The  teachers  on  the  island  ?  " 

"  No,  try  again." 

"  Filette  and  George  from  Cloudspire  ?  " 

"  Better  still ;  Uncle  Richard  and  Lucy.  They  will  arrive  with 
Mr.  Lambelle  and  his  wife.     Dear  father,  what  news  have  you?" 

"What  do  you  think,  ladies?  We  are  to  welcome  Captain  Thad 
Buddington,  from  Savannah.     His  time  of  enlistment  in  Sherman's 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  .733 

army  expired  some  time  since.  He  desires  to  see  the  old  flag 
reinstated  on  Sumter,  and  will  stop  here  on  his  way  North.  He 
informs  me  he  has  a  surprise  in  store  for  us  all.  ♦ 

"  The  fourteenth  of  April  will  be  a  day  of  surprises,"  said  Fanny, 
"  very  agreeable  surprises." 

"Welcome  to  the  Abolitionists!"  said  Afra ;  "we  have  ample 
accommodations,  and  can  entertain  them  sumptuously." 

"  I  have  other  papers  of  additional  interest,"  remarked  Mr. 
Sterlingworth.  Here  are  the  orders  of  General  Gilmore  and 
Admiral  Dalghren  for  to-morrow." 

He  gave  one  to  Fanny,  and  one  to  Afra,  saying, — 

"  Read  them  aloud  my  darlings.  These  orders  are  the  voice 
of  God.  To  us,  they  are  the  peans  of  holy  Victory,  Justice  and 
white-winged  Peace." 

Fanny  read  in  a  voice  tremulous  v/ith  grateful  joy, — 

Headquarters  Department  of  the  South,  } 
Hilton  Head,  S.  C,  April  lo,  1S65.  J 

[General  Orders.     No  41.] 

Friday  next,  the  14th  inst.,  will  be  the  iourih  anniversary  of  the  capture  of 
Fort  Sumter  by  the  Rebels.  A  befiiiing  celebration  on  that  day,  in  honor  of 
its  reoccupation  by  the  National  forces,  has  been  ordered  by  the  President,  in 
pursuance  of  which,  Brevet  Major-General  Robert  Anderson,  United  States 
Army,  will  restore  to  its  original  place  on  the  fort  the  identical  flag  which,  after 
an  honorable  and  gallant  defense,  he  was  compelled  to  lower  to  the  insurgents 
in  South  Carolina,  in  April,  1861. 

The  ceremonies  for  the  occasion  will  commence  with  prayer,  at  thirty  minutes 
past  II  o'clock,  A.  M. 

At  noon,  precisely,  the  flag  will  be  raised  and  saluted  with  one  hundred  guns 
from  Fort  Sumter,  and  with  a  National  salute  from  Fort  Moultrie  and  Battery- 
Bee,  on  Sullivan's  Island,  Fort  Putnam  on  Morris'  Island  and  Fort  Johnson  on 
James'  Island  ;  it  being  eminently  that  the  places  which  were  so  conspicuous  in 
the  inauguration  of  the  rebellion^should  take  a  part  not  less  prominent  in  the 
national  rejoicing  over  the  restoration  of  the  national  authority. 

After  the  salutes,  the  Reverend  Henry  Ward  Beecher  will  deliver  an  address. 

The  ceremonies  will  close  with  prayer  and  a  benediction. 

Colonel  Stewart  L.  Woodford,  chief  of  the  staff,  under  such  verbal  instruc- 
tions as  he  may  receive,  is  hereby  charged  with  the  details  of  the  celebration, 
comprising  all  the  arrangements  that  it  may  be  necessary  to  make  for  the  ac- 
commodation of  the  orator  of  the  day,  and  the  comfort  and  safety  of  the  invited 
guests  from  the  army  and  navy  and  from  ci"v  il. 

By  command  of  Major-General  Q.  A.  Gilmore. 

W.  L.  M.  Burger, 
Assistant  Adjutant-General, 


734  '     WHITE  MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"Afra,  dear,  read  your  Psalm  of  Peace,"  said  her  father,  who 
did  not  deem  the  thankful  tears  in  his  own  eyes  unmanly. 
She  read, —  ^ 

Flagship  Philadelphia,  / 

Charleston  Harbor,  S.  C,  April  13,  1S65.  ) 
[General  Order,     No  36.] 

(third  yearly  series.) 
The  public  prints  announce  the  surrender  of  the  rebel  army,  under  General 
Lee,  to  the  Commanding  General  of  the  United  States  Army, 

As  the  ceremony  ordered  for  the  formal  restoration  of  the  Union  Flag  to 
Sumter  will  occupy  the  greater  part  of  to-morrow,  it  only  remains  to  give  the 
rest  of  the  day  to  some  appropriate  recognition  of  an  event  which  seems  to 
leave  no  further  power  of  effective  resistance  to  the  rebeljion. 

The  vessels  of  the  Squadron  will  therefore  dress-ship,  in  full  colors,  to- 
morrow, at  8  o'clock,  A.  M-,  and  at  the  same  time  every  vessel  will  fire  a  National 
salute  of  twenty-one  guns. 

Twenty-one  guns  will  also  be  fired  at  sunset,  when  the  flags  are  hauled 
down. 

John  A.  Dahlgren,  Rear  Admiral, 

Commanding  So.  Atlantic  Blockading  Squadron. 

"There,  dry  your  tears,  both  of  you.  More  news  yet.  The 
'  Oceanus  '  was  steaming  up  the  bay,  when  I  started  home.  I  pre- 
sume Richard  and  Claude,  Lucy  and  Zaffiri  are  aboard.  I  am  going 
to  meet  them  with  Mr.  John's  rebel  carriage." 

He  rang  the  bell  for  Abram,  gave  orders  for  tea,  and  departed. 

After  the  embracings  and  rejoicings,  Richard  said  to  Fanny, — 

"  Sister,  how  splendidly  you  live  here,  in  the  rebel  city  !  Ele- 
gance and  luxury  surround  you.  If  you  were  not  my  radical  sister, 
a  suspicion  of  your  antecedents  would  invade  my  happiness. 
Slave-holders  lived  like  this  !  " 

"  True,  Richard,"  laughed  Lucy.  "  Mirrors  in  which  the  whole 
family  is  reflected  at  once  1  Marble  and  velvet  furniture  !  Three 
servants!  Oleanders,  jasmins,  roses,  orange  trees,  vegetable-gar- 
den, et  cetera  !  " 

"  Delightful !  delightful !  "  ejaculated  Zaffiri.  "  A  fine  piano  for 
Afra's   skilful  fingers,  also." 

The  morning  of  the  fourteenth  dawned  with  a  bright  promise 
for  the  day.  About  ten  o'clock,  nine  steamers  with  flags  flying  and 
bands  playing,  left  the  docks  amid  the  enthusiastic  cheeriug  of 
spectators  and  the  joyful  clamor  of  their  crowded  decks. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK  -JUNE.  735 

Richard,  looking  back  at  the  gala  fleet,  said  to  his  friends, — 

"  What  a  sublime  spectacle  we  witness  to-day.  Compensation 
has  come  at  last,  to  the  '  boys  in  blue,'  who  have  borne  the* strife 
of  battle,  and  to  our  government  which  so  faithfully  put  down  this 
insurrection." 

"  Thoughts  of  this  magnificent  scene  makes  one  faint,"  exclaimed 
Zaffiri.     "  That  I  should  have  lived  to  see  this  day." 

Without  accident  the  participants  in  the  national  fete  were 
landed.  Over  the  parapets  and  down  the  long  stairway  to  the  par- 
ade ground  of  the  fort,  flowed  a  rainbow-hued  cascade  of  bright 
uniforms,  gay  dresses,  handsome  young  officers,  sun-burned  vet- 
erans, happy  faces  and  sparkling  eyes. 

After  the  recitation  of  the  Te  Deuni  and  prayer ;  after  the  read- 
ing by  Rev.  R.  L.  Storrs,  Jr.,  D.  D.,  aiid  the  audience,  alternately, 
of  Psalms  126,  47,  98  and  20,  and  the  reading  of  Major  Anderson's 
dispatch  to  the  Government  of  the  fate  of  Sumter,  dated  April  18, 
186 1,  Major  Anderson  and  his  faithful  Sargaent  Hart  unfurled  the 
glorious  old  banner,  with  an  evergreen  wreath  attached,  and  with 
many  loyal  hands  hold  of  the  halyards,  up  !  up  !  to  the  top  of  the 
staff  the  starry  emblem  floated  on  the  strong  breeze,  and  the  in- 
describable enthusiasm  of  the  multitude  below.  Simultaneously 
the  assemblage  rose,  and  for  fifteen  minutes  saluted  the  dear  sym- 
bol of  Hope  and  Peace  with  cheers,  hats,  handkerchiefs,  tears,  smiles 
and  joyful  acclamation. 

Two  hundred  guns  saluted  the  flag  and  bellowed  forth  victory  to 
the  echoing  shores. 

"  Let  us  listen,"  said  Mr.  Lambelle  seriously,  "with  reverence  to 
these  iron  voices  which  have  proclaimed  to  our  nation  the  words  of 
truth  and  soberness,  that  reason  and  religion  have  failed  to  'utter. 
Barbarians  that  we  are,  let  us  admire  the  sulphurons  mouths  that 
have  thundered,  '  Let  the  oppressed  go  free.^  " 

The  orders  of  General  Gilmore  were  enthusiastically  carried  out, 
and  at  the  close  of  the  exercises  the  vast  collection  scattered  over 
the  fort,  seeking  mementos  of  the  occasion.  Bits  of  woods,  pieces 
of  rusty  shell,  fragments  of  masonry,  splints  of  half-buried  gabions, 
wave-washed  pebbles  and  broken  sea  shells  were  hoarded  by  all , 
withered  flowers  and  green  sprays  were  gathered  from  the  speakers 
stand  and  borne  away  with  sacred  memories. 


736  WHITE* MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Strangers  swarmed  in  and  out  of  the  dismal  casemates  or 
grouped  upon  the  parapets.  In  one  of  the  former,  Richard  dis- 
covered Captain  Thad  IBuddington  hardy  and  tanned. 

*'  Welcome,  brave  soldier,"  said  Lucy.  "  You  must  have  carried 
a  charmed  life  with  the  musket  and  knapsack.  Mary  will  embrace 
you  with  a  grateful  heart." 

"  /  have  lived  to  see  the  inm  der  of  ?ny  father  avenged  !  Mrs.  Bea me, 
every  shot  from  my  hand  has  been  2£//>2^c"^/ te/////  his  ?iame ;  and  I 
have  seen  it  do  bloody  work  ;  I  have  not  come  out  of  this  war  un- 
scathed, but  I  am  content  with  its  achievements.  Where  are  the 
Sterlingworths  ?" 

"  In  the  wilderness,  somewhere,"  said  Richard.  "  You  will 
accompany  us  home  1  " 

"  I  shall  do  so  with  pleasure.  Beg  Mrs.  Sterlingworth  not  to 
wait  tea  for  me  ;  I  shall  take  my  supper  at  the  Charleston  Hotel. 
The  steamer  *  Anna  Maria '  is  at  the  landing.  Excuse  my 
haste." 

He  bounded  up  the  long  stairway  and  disappeared.  Every  eye 
at  leaving  the  fort  gave  the  flag  a  benediction,  and  kindled  afresh 
in  contemplating  the  colors  that  dressed  the  squadron  in  recogni- 
tion of  Lee's  surrender. 

After  tea,  Afra  lured  her  Uncle  Richard  and  Lucy  into  the 
streets,  and  after  an  interesting  inspection  of  the  curious  throngs, 
led  them,  unwarned,  to  Issy's  home. 

During  their  absence,  Captain  Thad  Buddington,  accompanied 
by  an  old  negro  slave,  pjiid  his  promised  visit. 

"  Sit  down,  June,"  said  the  captain,  "  in  this  parlor ;  let  the 
kitchen  take  care  of  itself.     You  are  among  friends,  now." 

The  gray-haired  old  slave  obeyed,  taking  his  seat  in  a  corner. 

"  Come  up  among  us,"  said  Mr.  Sterlingworth,  with  the  consid- 
eration which  his  family  ever  manifested  to  one  of  his  class. 
"  You  have  served  all  your  life.  Learn  to  be  free  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible." 

"  I  have  not  served  all  my  life,  sir,"  replied  June.  "  I  was  born 
free." 

"  Ah  !  were  you  kidnapped  in  the  North  ? " 

•'  I  was  shipwrecked  and  cast  ashore  on  one  of  the  sea  islands, 
sir ;  was  picked   up  by  Southerners   and  put  in   Charleston  work- 


WHITE   MAY   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  737 

house.     I  was  kept  there  a  long  time,  and  then   was  sold  into  sla- 
very to  pay  my  jail  fees,  sir." 

"  Why  did  you  not  insist  that  you  was  free,  or  write  to  your 
Northern  friend,  if  you  had  any  ?  "  asked  Fanny,  pityingly. 

Mr.  Larabelle  answered  for  June. 

"  Why,  Mrs.  Sterlingworth,  in  the  first  place  he  could  get  no  one 
to  write  for  him,  and  in  the  next,  if  he  had  written  a  hundred  let- 
ters for  himself  they  wonld  all  have  been  destroyed  instead  of  be- 
ing posted.  This  man,  June,  would  have  been  used  in  the  same 
manner  if  he  had  sailed  a  free  seaman,  cook  or  steward,  into  the 
port  of  Charleston.  He  would  have  been  imprisoned  till  the  ves- 
sel sailed  away,  and  if  overlooked  and  left  behind  he  would  have 
been  sold  all  the  same. 

"  The  Legislature  of  South  Carolina  passed  an  act  in  1835  ^^ 
that  effect.  The  captain  of  such  vessels  bringing  from  other 
ports  free  cooks,  stewards  or  mariners  were  obliged  to  enter  into  a 
'  recognizance  with  good  and  sufficient  surety  for  such  free  negro 
or  slave,  so  brought  into  this  State  that  he  would  comply  with  the 
requisitions  of  this  act,'  and  on  his  neglect  or  refusal,  or  disability 
to  do  the  same,  he  was  compelled  to  haul  his  vessel  into  the  stream 
one  hundred  yards  distant  from  the  shore  and  remain  there  "until 
the  vessel  should  proceed  to  sea.  If  the  captain  refused  this,  he 
was  indicted  and  convicted,  made  to  pay  one  thousand  dollars  and 
suffer  imprisonment  six  months." 

"Our  sea-captains  were  not  over-zealous  for  the  welfare  of  free 
colored  people,"  said  Mr.  Sterlingworth,  "  and  many  a  poor  fellow 
has  been  left  in  jail  to  be  sold  at  vendue.  The  State  was  benefitted 
by  this  act,  for  it  had  one  half  the  proceeds  of  the  sale  of  every 
one." 

"Many  a  one,"  answered  Mr.  Lambelle.  "This  nefarious  act 
brought  Samuel  Hoar  to  Charleston  in  1844,  to  confer  with  the 
Governor,  for  the  purpose  of  having  the  legality  of  such  imprison- 
ment tried  before  the  Supreme  Court,  and  the  *  collection  and 
transmission  of  accurate  information,  respecting  the  number  and 
the  names  of  citizens  of  Massachusetts  who  have  heretofore  been 
or  may  be  imprisoned  without  the  allegation  of  any  crime. 

*'He  and  his  daughter  staid  at  the  hotel  three  days,  submitting 
to  insults  and  threats.     The  legislature  convened  at  that  time  in 


738  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Columbia,  received  information  from  Governor  Hammond,  of  the 
Idler  that  Mr.  Koar  had  addressed  to  him,  and  in  frantic  haste 
passed  resolutions,  expelling  that  gentleman  from  the  State." 

"  What  was  the  substance  of  those  resolutions,"  asked  Fanny, 
engedy. 

"  I  can  repeat  the  last  two,  for  it  has  been  the  business  of  my 
life  to  study  and  observe  Southern  motives  and  diplomacy.     In  the 
*   first  place,  Mr.  Hoar  was  denominated  a  seditious  person,  danger- 
ous to  the  State.     The- third  resolution  read  thus, — 

"'That  the  emissary  sent  by  the  State  of  Massachusetts  to  the 
State  of  South  Carolina,  with  the  avowed  purpose  of  interfering 
with  her  institutions  and  disturbing  her  peace,  is  to  be  regarded  in 
the  character  he  has  assumed,  and  to  be  treated  accordingly.' 

"  The  fourth  resolution  was  in  these  words, — 

"  *  That  his  Excellency,  the  Governor,  be  requested  to  expel 
from  our  Territory  the  said  agent,  after  due  notice  to  depart ;  and 
that  the  legislature  will  sustain  the  executive  authority  in  any 
measure  it  may  adopt  for  the  purpose  aforesaid.' 

"  Gentlemen  informed  Mr.  Hoar  that  he  was  in  imminent  dan- 
ger while  remaining  in  the  city,  and  the  hotel-keeper  demanded  he 
should  leave  for  the  safety  of  his  house.  He  was  compelled  to 
enter  a  carriage  at  the  door,  and  take  a  boat  homeward." 

"Ah!"  laughed  the  captain,  "Columbia  dared  not  try  her  leg- 
i:5laiive  enactments  on  the  sixty  thousand  seditious  persons  led  by 
Sherman,  although  I  think  the  peace  of  the  State  was  more  dis- 
tuibed  by  his  forces,  than  by  the  gentlemanly  mission  of  Mr. 
Hoar!" 

'•  True,  true  ! "  ejaculated  Fanny ;  more  carriages  would  be  neces- 
saiy  than  are  left  in  this  city,  to  expel  the  Yankees  from  the 
Charleston  Hotel." 

"  You  would  have  to  deal  with  General  Gilmore,  to-night,"  said 
Mr.  Sterlingworth." 

"We  have  forgotten  our  friend,  June,"  said  Zaffiri.  "Did  you 
not  insist  to  your  jailors  that  you  were  free  ?  " 

"It  was  of  no  use,  ma'am.  I  was  paid  for  it  by  the  whip.  I  saw 
one  man  in  the  work-house  that  I  knew  in  the  North.  I  appealed 
to  him,  but  with  one  oath,  he  declared  every  word  I  said  was 
false." 


WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK   JUNE.  739 

"  In  what  Northern  State  did  you  live  before  your  shipwreck  ?  " 

"  In  Massachusetts,  ma'am." 

"What  part  —  or  what  town  ? " 

"In  Alderbank,  near  Cloudspire." 

Startled  and  amazed,  she  asked, — 

"  Had  you  many  acquaintances  there,  and  what  were  their 
names  ?  " 

'•  I  knew  the  town's  people  generally.  One  family  were  friends 
to  me  and  my  wife  and  children.  Their  name  was  Beame.  Fanny 
Beame  was  kind  to  Susan,  my  wife,  and  to  my  children.  I  worked 
for  Deacon  Steele  and  others,  but  my  life  was  hard  there,  and  I 
tried  the  sea." 

"Trembling  nervously,  she  asked, — 

"  What  was  your  name  ?  " 

"  Henry  Hughes,  madam." 

"  Do  you  know  that  lady,  June,  who  addressed  you  ?  "  asked  the 
captain. 

"  Her  voice  seems  like  one  I  heard  years  ago." 

Mrs.  Sterlingworth  rushed  to  June,  seized  his  hand,  and  cried, — 

"  I  am  Fanny  Beame !  the  same  Fanny  Beame  that  loved  Susie 
and  your  children  !  " 

She  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and  wept,  while  the  bent  form 
of  the  old  slave  bowed  lower,  dropping  tears  upon  his  clasped 
hands. 

Zafhri  wept  with  Fanny  and  June.  The  bright  light  of  the  chan- 
dalier  grew  dim  to  sterner  eyes  than  theirs. 

For  many  minutes  there  was  the  solemn  silence  of  grief.  At 
length  the  captain  said, — 

"  I  have  told  June  nothing  of  his  family.  He  knew  not  that  he 
was  to  meet  you  here.  He  wished  to  go  North  under  my  protec- 
tion." 

"Tell  him  all,  Ruben,"  sobbed  Fanny  to  her  husband.  "  I  can- 
not !     Oh  !  how  dreadful  this  is  !  " 

"June,  what  were  your  children's  names.? "  he  asked. 

"  Will  and  Addie,  sir." 

"Well,  Henry  Hughes,  there  is  good  news  for  your  last  days, 
even  in  this  accursed  city.     Vour  daughter,  Addie,  is  married  to  a 


740  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

physician  and  gentleman.  She  lives  in  good  style,  is  what  we  call 
wealthy.     Susie,  your  wife,  is  dead !  " 

The  old  man  groaned,  and  wrung  his  hands. 

"  She  is  buried  in  Cloudspire  graveyard.  Willie,  your  son  is  a 
lawyer  in  Boston,  a  man  of  excellent  reputation." 

"  Where  is  Addie,  sir  ?  "  moaned  June. 

"  She  is  in  this  city,  ready  to  welcome  her  long-lost  father." 

Merry  voices  were  heard  coming  up  the  walk.  Mr.  Sterlingworth 
passed  into  the  hall,  saying, — 

"You  are  excused,  I  will  meet  my  friends  at  the  door." 

He  took  the  party  to  the  privacy  of  another  room  and  related  to 
Issy  and  Addie  the  surprise  of  the  evening,  also  to  Afra,  Richard 
and  Lucy. 

Addie,  sobbing  wildly,  almost  fainted  in  the  arms  of  her  hus- 
band. 

"  It  cannot  be  !  it  cannot  be  !  "  she  repeated,  over  and  over. 

"  Hush,  my  poor  Addie,"  said  Issy,  at  last,  "  Let  us  'turn  our 
tears  to  rejoicing  over  the  lost  one.  Let  us  take  his  broken  heart 
to  our  own  home  and  tender  keeping.  Are  you  not  glad,  my  poor 
darling  ?  This  is  but  o^ie  of  the  cruelties  of  slavery.  Thousands 
upon  thousands  have  suffered  the  agonies  of  your  dear  father  with- 
out the  compensation  that  will  come  to  his  old  age  to-night,  when 
he  clasps  you  to  his  heart.  Let  us  go  to  him ;  he  has  t/irce  chil- 
dren now,  Addie." 

Richard  and  Lucy  had  already  made  themselves  known  to 
Henry,  who  was  still  standing.  Addie  entered  the  parlor  with 
Issy,  looked  upon  the  tall,  bent  from,  and  with  a  cry  sprang  for- 
ward and  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck, — 

"  Dear,  dear,  father  ! "  she  sobbed,  "  I  am  Addie !  your  lost 
Addie  !  " 

"  Such  scenes  as  these  are  the  results  of  this  bloody  war,"  said 
Richard.  "  This  first  fruit  of  freedom  was  reserved  for  our  eyes, 
Lucy." 

While  our  friends  are  revolving  and  enjoying  the  happy  reunion, 
another  scene  was  being  enacted  in  a  private  chamber  at  the 
Charleston  Hotel. 

Three  names  had  been  written  on  the  books  with  which  the 
reader  is  familiar. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  741 

M.  Justine  Sillton,  Ohio.  Mrs.  Edmee  Sillton,  Ohio.  Mrs.  May 
B.  Dentelle,  and  servant,  Savannah,  Ga. 

Edmee  Sillton  and  May  Dentelle  retired  immediately  after  the 
tea  hour  to  the  chamber  of  the  latter. 

While  General  Gilmore's  grand  reception  occupied  the  attention 
of  the  host  and  corps  of  servants,  while  the  music  of  the  band 
echoed  on  the  night,  these  two  ladies  held  their  conversation  un- 
disturbed till  a  late  hour. 

May,  like  the  majority  of  Southern  ladies,  wore  deep  mourning ; 
her  fine  features  were  impressed  with  an  habitual  sadness ; 
but  changing  entirely  the  gay,  blooming,  animated  expression  of 
former  years. 

Mrs.  Sillton,  grown  older,  was  the  personification  of  health  and 
happiness. 

"  Dear  Edmee,  I  think  you  grow  superb  as  you  advance  in 
years,"  said  May  with  a  mournful  smile.  "  You  have  the  inspiration 
of  continued  love  about  you.  You  thrive  on  sweet  memories,  while 
I  need  daily  draughts  of  ihe  waters  of  Lethe,  to  live  the  joyless  life 
left  to  me.  Augustus  sleeps  in  an  unknown  grave  among  those 
who  vainly  sacrificed  their  lives  for  the  South.  Mamma  Bloome 
died  in  Europe,  and  my  three  sweet  children  exhaled  from  my  sight 
like  sparkling  dew-drops  in  the  morning  sun." 

*'  To  lose  friends,  dear  May,  is  the  common  lot  of  all ;  time 
will  heal  grief  —  hope  will  spring  anew  in  future  days." 

"  No,  Mrs.  Sillton,  time  will  not  change  or  soften  one  phase  of 
my  life.  It  is  that  which  brought  me  here  to  meet  you  in  Charles- 
ton. It  is  that  mystery  which  I  am  about  to  ask  you  to  help  me 
solve." 

"  Proceed,  Mav." 

"  Edmee,  I  know  myself  the  most  part  of  my  life,  but  there  are 
faint  dream-like,  indistinct  memories  floating  over  my  brain  which 
I  cannot  clearly  recall.  These  turbid  recollections  would  not  have 
stirred  but  for  old  '  June, '  my  servant  of  years,  and  to  whom  I  am 
much  attached.  Since  Sherman  opened  Savannah  to  his  forces 
our  slaves  have  become  free.  In  February  last,  I  noticed  a  deep 
anxiety  brooding  constantly  on  old  June's  face.  He  was  con- 
stantly studying  me;  following  me  with  an   earnest  and  troubled 


742  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

look  ;  fixing  his  gaze  upon  me,  till  he  became  so  lost  to  everything 
that  he  heard  not  even  my  orders. 

"  I  questioned  him  concerning  this  unwonted  abstraction  and 
finally  forced  him  to  reveal  what  troubled  him.  To  come  to  the 
fatal  truth,  he  almost  convinced  me  that  I  was  born  a  slave  in 
South  Carolina — that  my  mother's  name  was  *  Isabel  ' — that  my 
father  sold  me  to  a  slave-trader  for  the  New  Orleans  market,  and 
that  my  baby  name  was  '  Lillian.' 

"  Who  did  he  say  your  father  was,  May?" 

"  William  Steele  on  Colonel  Fairland's  plantation  ;  and  would 
you  believe  I  have  read  that  name  on  a  small  stone,  myself,  under 
the  trees  down  by  the  river,  on  that  same  plantation.  I  can  speak 
of  it  coolly,  now,  but  I  was  prostrated  in  bed  by  a  nervous  fever 
brought  on  by  this  revelation." 

"  How  could  June  know  all  this  ?  " 

"VVhere  do  you  imagine  he  professes  to  have  learned  my  history, 
Edmee  ?  he  says  in  Massachusetts  ;  that  this  William  Steele  went 
North,  years  ago,  to  visit  his  brother;  that  he,  June,  sat  in  the 
kitchen  by  the  open  door  and  heard  it  all.  William  Steele  told  his 
brother  that  my  mother  was  nearly  white ;  that  he  obliged  her  to 
live  with  him  a  year  or  more  ;  that  she  died  and  was  buried  by  the 
r i  ve r.     Ed  m ee,  /  have  see?i  two  graves  there. ' ' 

"  May,  how  could  this  old  slave  have  been  in  Massachusetts  t " 

"  He  says  he  was  free  and  was  shipwrecked  on  the  coast  of 
South  Carolina,  was  taken  to  the  work-house  and  after  some  time 
was  sold." 

"  Then  I  cannot  understand  why  he  should  dare  to  select  you 
for  this  child,  sold  to  a  traveling  trader.  Why  you  more  than  a 
thousand  other  ladies  ?  Who  owned  June  before  Augustus  bought 
him  for  you  ? ' 

"  Colonel  Haywood.  He  bought  him  from  the  work-house  at 
public  sale.  Oh !  you  asked  how  he  dared  to  select  me.  He  says 
1  continually  remind  him  of  the  Steeles  in  my  voice,  and  certain 
resemblances  in  my  features.  He  came  finally  to  be  i?iipressed  that 
I  was  Lillian,  how  much  soever  he  strove  against  it.  He  said  a 
voice,  everywhere,  whether  he  was  asleep  or  awake  declared  it. 
He  heard  William  Steele  say  that  when  I  was  born,  a  7nark  like 
drops  of  blood  flowing  down  was  on  my  shoulders.     That   Isabel,  my 


WHITE    MAY   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  743 

so-called  mother,  was  brought  up  delicately  and  for  some  reason 
was  sold  to  work  in  the  field  ;  that  she  could  not  do  her  task  and 
the  driver  cut  her  shoulders  with  his  black  whip  till  the  blood 
flowed  and  she  fainted.  Following  his  impressions,  June  per- 
suaded my  dressing-maid  to  tell  him,  before  hand,  if  there  were 
blood  marks  on  my  shoulders,  without  giving  her  a  reason.  Edmee, 
'  they  are  there." 

May,  who  had  successfully  struggled  with  her  feelings  till  the 
present  moment,  broke  down,  and  gave  way  to  an  uncontrollable 
fit  of  weeping.     In  broken  and  incoherent  sentences,  she  cried, — 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Sillton,  I  cannot  be  a  slave  !  I  cannot  go  down  so  low. 
I  have  been  educated  and  raised  among  the  noblest  of  the  land  ;  I 
cannot  lose  caste,  and  with  it  the  respect  to  which  I  have  been 
accustomed.  I  would  rather  die.  I  have  been  tempted  again  and 
again  to  throw  myself  into  the  Savannah." 

"  Does  Papa  Bloome  know  anything  of  this  ? " 

^"Not  a  syllable," 

"  Does  your  father-in-law,  Denfelle,  dream  of  it  ? " 

"  Oh !  Edmee,  he  was  forced  to  know  it.  Those  two  terrible 
weeks  I  was  delirious  and  raved  about  all  June  had  told  me. 
Papa  Dentelle  has  idolized  me  since  my  first  acquaintance  with 
Augustus,  and  he  watched  me  then  day  and  night.  He  had  a 
couch  made  for  himself  in  my  chamber  and  nursed  me  with  anxious 
solicitations.  He  selected  Augustus'  old  nurse  to  attend  with  him  ; 
she  did  not  hear  much  ;  he  would  have  her  come  in  only  as  occa- 
sion required.  When  I  recovered,  he  opened  the  subject  and  told 
me  to  preserve  silence  to  others  ;  and  if,  after  seeing  you,  my 
slave  birth  should  be  corroberated  to  keep  silence  forever.  He 
said, — 

"  '  May,  I  am  an  old  man  ;  the  deaths  of  nearly  all  my  family 
have  broken  my  spirit.  I  have  no  one  to  supply  Augustus'  place 
but  you,  my  child.  I  love  you  now  in  spite  of  this  great  dread, 
which  you  term  disgrace.  Be  calm,  and  live  to  comfort  my  last 
days.' 

"  Oh  !  I  love  Papa  Dentelle  as  well  as  Papa  Bloome.  But  I  feel 
this  infamy  myself.  I  am  proud,  Edme'e.  How  can  I  ever  meet 
Madame  Lambelle,  and  maintain  this  falsehood  of  rank  and  high- 
birth,  if  it  really  be  one.^  " 


744  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

*' May,"  said  Mrs.  Sillton,  "I  have  learned  that  being  a  slave 
does  not  confer  disgrace.  The  advancing  age  calls  for  equality 
among  the  races  of  men.  The  tendency  of  nations  and  communi- 
ties is  towards  a  universal  recognition  of  rights.  The  voice  of  God 
and  Nature  demand  it.  Suppose  you  really  had  been  born  a  slave, 
to  follow  the  condition  of  your  mother's  bondage,  ignorance  and 
subjection.  Would  that  have  changed  the  inherent  possibilities  of 
your  nature  ?  Would  you  not  be  then,  in  mental  faculties  and 
moral  capacity,  just  what  you  are  now.?  In  refinement  and  cul- 
ture, you  would  have  been  repulsively  different  no  doubt.  To  what 
would  this  difference  be  due  ?  May,  only  to  lack  of  opportunity. 
Do  you  not  see  there  is  no  caste  but  the  wicked  distinction  that 
men  in  power  force  upon  the  helpless  and  oppressed.  What  harm 
if  you  2oe/r  born  a  slave.-'  Slavery  is  dead  forever.'' 

"Oh,  Edmee  !  I  never  heard  you  speak  this  way  before  —  you, 
so  proud  and  blue  blooded." 

"  May,  I  never  had  occasion,  and  blue  blood  has  found  its 
l^roper  level.  It  has  soaked  into  the  soil  to  nourish  into  life  some- 
ihing  more  beautiful  than  Southern pride.^^ 

"  Edmee  !  dear  Edme'e  !  all  this  is  a  new  language  to  me.  I 
cannot  comprehend  it.  Let  us  return  to  myself.  Help  me,  I  pray,  to 
unravel  the  mystery  I  am  searching  out.  Was  I  born  a  slave 'i  and 
if  so,  how  come  I  to  be  Papa  Bloo??ie^s  daughter  ?  " 

Mrs.  Sillton,  who  had  been  pacing  the  carpet,  returned,  seating 
herself  in  front  of  May,  and  hesitated. 

"  Well,  I  cannot  avoid  the  inevitable  !  I  had  hoped  that  you  would 
have  ended  your  life  in  the  belief  that  you  are,  and  was,  the  child 
of  our  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bloome.  But  it  seems  that  the  iniquitious 
deeds  of  slavery  must  come  to  light.  I  know  but  a  portion  of  your 
history.  The  old  slave  June  has  informed  you  of  the  rest.  I  am 
now  going  to  make  it  clear  to  you,  that,  you  were  by  birth  a  slave. 
That,  doubtless,  William  Steele,  your  father,  sleeps  at  '  Le  Grand 
Palais,'  by  the  side  of  Isabel,  your  mother. 

"  Now  listen.  After  my  marriage  and  settlement  in  Mississippi, 
with  Mr  Sillton,  I  found  that  his  principles  would  not  allow  him  to 
enter  into  the  sin  of  slave-holding,  although  our  house  was  supplied 
with  a  sufficient  number  of  servants ;  they  were  all  hired.  Only 
once  he  bought  and  owned  a  human  being.     He   had   business  at 


THE    KU    KLUX   OATH. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  745 

quite  a  distance  from  home,  not  so  far  however,  but  that  he  was 
driven  in  our  carriage,  two  or  three  days  journey.  In  the  midst  of 
a  forest  he  encountered  a  slave-trader,  with  chained  gangs  of  men 
and  women,  and  the  huge  ungainly  wagon-arks  for  children.  Mr. 
Sillton  alighted,  made  an  examination  of  the  slave-drove,  as  if  to 
buy ;  inquired  prices  and  qualities,  simply  to  observe  the  wicked- 
ness and  cruelty  sanctioned  by  a  Republican  government,  and 
professedly,  the  most  enlightened  Christian  nation  on  the  globe. 

"  He  passed  on  to  a  huge  covered  wagon  whence  issued  the 
chirping  of  children,  and  peered  in.  A  little,  fair,  blue-veined 
child,  with  eyes  like  wood  violets,  and  with  curling  flaxen  hair, 
toddled  up  on  her  feet,  put  out  her  small,  white  arms  towards  him 
and  cried,  '  Papa,  papa !  Lily  tire.'  The  dimness  of  the  wagon 
and  her  eagerness  to  find  some  friend,  caused  her  to  forget  iden- 
tity. 

"  Mr.  Sillton  extended  his  hands,  and  said, — 

" '  Come,  come,  Lily  ! ' 

^  "  Stumbling  and  falling  among  the  crowded  infants,  she  reached 
him,  clasped  him  round  the  neck  and  nestled  down  in  his  arms. 

"  'Trader,'  he  asked,  *  what  is  the  price  of  this  child  ? ' 

" '  Five  hundred  dollars,  sir  ;  you  see  she's  a  nice  piece  of  flesh. 
I  don't  often  get  that  quality  of  article.' 

" '  I  will  make  the  purchase,'  replied  my  husband.  It  happened 
that  he  had  more  than  that  amount  of  money  with  him.  He  counted 
out  the  five  hundred  dollars  and  was  hurrying  to  the  carriage  with 
Lily  in   his  arms,  when  the  trader  arrested  his  steps. 

"'Here,  mister,  I've  got  a  paper  for  you  to  take  along,'  at  the 
same  time  opening  his  pocket-book.  '  If  there's  anything  wrong 
about  that  pickaniny,  you'll  be  in  as  much  trouble  as  I.  We  traders 
trying  to  get  an  honest  living,  are  took  up  sometimes  for  stealing 
niggers  ;  so,  when  I  bought  that  white  one  on  a  rainy  night  in  South 
Carolina,  I  got  my  customer  to  write  a  paper  that  I  was  all  right, 
that  she  was  his  slave.     Here's  the  paper,  and  name  signed  to  it.' 

"  Mr.  Sillton  looked  it  over,  and  read  ihe  signature,  — '  William 
Steele,  Le  Grand  Palais,  South  Carolma.'  " 

"  He  brought  the  little  creature  to  me,  disheveled  and  travel- 
soiled.  Her  dust-smirched  cheeks  were  channeled  with  baby  tears, 
her  dress  was  torn  nearly  to  shreds. 


74^  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  '  There,'  said  my  husband,  '  is  my  only  slave  purchase.  Heaven 
forgive  me,  Edniee,  you  know  what  motive  impelled  the  act.' 

"  I  kept  her  in  my  room  till  a  little  suit  was  prepared.  Then, 
washed,  clad  in  white,  with  blue  ribbons,  in  great  delight,  she 
turned  round  and  round  before  the  mirror,  lisping,  '  Pitty  Lilly  I 
Pity  fite  dess  !  Lilly  nice  1 '  " 

"I  had  an  irresistible  desire  to  have  that  child  brought  up  away 
from  the  contact  of  slavery.  In  accordance  vvith  my  wishes,  wc 
took  her  to  Ohio,  and  succeeded  in  getting  her  adopted  by  Mr. 
Bloome,  a  relative  of  the  Sillton  family.  The  rest  you  kfiow,  dear 
May." 

May  scarcely  moved  a  muscle  during  Edmee's  recital.  She 
seemed  to  follow  the  trader,  to  be  present  at  his  camp  in  Missis- 
sippi, and  to  have  ridden   home  with  Mr  Sillton,  in  his  carriage. 

Now,  her  pale  cheeks  crimsoned  with  false  shnme.  She  burred 
her  face  in  her  handkerchief,  and  wet  it  with  tears  of  humiliation. 

"  Fie,  May  Dentelle  !  "  cried  Edmee,  lifting  the  bent  head  and 
supporting  it  against  herself  "  Why  will  you  shed  these  weak, 
wicked  tears.**  See  what  I  have  done;  1  might  as  well  have 
allowed  you  to  be  raised  and  trained  in  the  South,  as  in  Mr. 
Bloome's  family.  You  are  spoiled  by  Southern  ideas.  You  never 
was  a  slave,  except  by  laws  which  had  lost  their  savor  and  were  fit 
to  be  cast  out  and  trodden  under  foot  of  men.  Go  back  to  Papa 
Dentelle's  love.  Tell  him  all,  and  if  his  affection  fails  you,  come 
to  Ohio,  to  my  heart  and  home,  and  learn  to  be  strong," 

"Explain  one  thing  more,"  sobbed  May.  "The  motive  that  im- 
pelled Mr.  Sillton  to  purchase  me." 

"  Have  you  not  had  enough  of  mysteries  to-day?"  asked  Mrs. 
Sillton.  "  Dry  your  eyes  ;  look  into  my  face  and  learn  to  be 
brave." 

"  There,  now,"  taking  her  old  seat  before  her  listener.  "Keep 
your  eyes  upon  me,"  repeated  Edmee  laughingly. 

"  The  motive  that  impelled  Mr.  Sillton  to  buy  ^-^z/,  was  because 
I  was  once  a  slave,  7}iysclfy 

May  uttered  a  scream  of  terror. 

"Look  at  me!"  reiterated  Edmee.  "I  was  sold  by  my  sister 
at  the  auction-table,  and  the  terms  for  my  sale  were  that  I  should 
toil  in  the  Southern  sun,  with  the  planter's  hoe.     Mr.  Sillton  loved 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  74^ 

me,  and  by  the  persuasions  of  my  colored  mother  and  white  father, 
he  was  allowed  to  bid  me  off. 

He  married  me  that  night,  after  placing  in  my  possession  my 
free  papers,  which  were  deposited  in  a  silver  box  with  my  marriage 
certiticate.  I  have  them  now,  in  Ohio.  There,  you  cannot  have 
lost  Caste  with  me  !  " 

This  was  the  climax  of  May's  endurance.  She  staggered  to  the 
bed  and  fainted. 

In  the  midst  of  Mrs.  Sillton's  efforts  for  the  restoration  of  her 
friend,  a  light  tap  at  the  door  brought  her  face  to  face  with  an  ap- 
parent stranger. 

"Madame  Lambelle  meets  Mrs.  Sillton,  I  believe,"  said  the 
visitor,  cordially,  entering  the  room  splendidly  atlired  in  silk,  lace 
and  diamonds.  "Mr.  Lambelle  has  come  on  an  invitation  to  Gen- 
eral Gilmore's  reception,  and  I  took  the  pleasure  of  calling  first 
upon  Mrs.  Dentelle.  Is  she  ill,  Mrs.  Siilton  ?  "  she  asked,  ap- 
proaching the  bed. 

"  She  will  recover  soon,  she  has  fainted." 

"How  wan  and  wasted;  I  should  scarcely  recognize  her,"  said 
Madame  Lambelle,  liftmg  a  cold  hand.  "  I  have  not  seen  May  for 
several  years." 

"  The  events  of  the  war  have  effected  her  much." 

"  Perhaps  I  should  withdraw.  It  may  shock  her  nerves  to  meet 
me  suddenly.     I  leave  for  her  my  love  and  sympathy." 

Madame  Lambelle  stole  out  of  the  chamber,  and  joined  the 
bright  scene  below,  which  was  often  clouded  by  thoughts  of  May's 
quiet  suffering. 


CHxlPTER  XXXVII. 

THE  next  morning  after  the  discovery  of   Addie's  father,  after 
an  almost  sleepless  night  of  joyful  sorrow  and  sorrowful  joy, 
she  said  to  him  at  table, — 

"  Dear  father,  Charleston  is  to  witness  another  gala  day  in  wel- 
come to,  and  in  honor  of  the  Commander-in-Chief  of  the  moral 
and  reUgious  forces  of  the  United  States,  William  Lloyd  Garrison, 


74^  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

of  Boston.  Thousands  of  people  will  be  out  to  look  upon  the  face, 
and  listen  to  the  voice  of  one  who  would  never  have  knowingly- 
been  allowed  to  land  at  any  port  in  the  South,  unless  it  had  been 
for  his  imprisonment  and  death,  in  order  to  obtain  the  high  re- 
ward offered  for  his  head.  Will  you  go  with  us,  to  welcome  this 
great  apostle  of  peace  and  good  will  to  men  ? " 

"  You  must  excuse  me,  my  daughter,  I  have  never  heard  his 
name.  I  know  but  three  apostles,  Mrs.  Bearne,  Richard,  and 
Fanny  Beame.  They  preached  the  gospel  of  hope  to  me.  Their 
words  of  encouragement  have  been  hidden  in  my  soul,  through  all 
these  years  of  bondage.  They  smoothed  my  poor  Susan's  way  to 
the  grave.  They  saved  my  children,  Addie.  The  world  has  passed 
me  by,  with  its  doings.  I  shall  attend  to  my  dear  mistress,  as  long 
as  she  remains  in  this  city.  I  have  heard  of  ministering  angels, 
my  child.     I  have  seen  one  in  mistress  May." 

"  So,  with  Issy,  old  June  made  his  way  to  the  hotel ;  and,  while 
the  masses  swayed,  swarmed,  cheered  and  rejoiced  around  the 
speaker's  stand  erected  on  Citadel  Green,  and  crowded  Zion's 
Chureh,  presenting  a  sea  of  grateful,  tearful,  adoring  upturned  faces 
to  William  Lloyd  Garrison  and  George  Thompson,  the  old  slave 
sat  in  the  hall  by  May's  door,  with  his  head  bent  over  his  folded 
hands,  listening  lovingiy  for  her  slightest  command. 

There  was  to  be  a  general  reunion  of  acquaintances  and  friends 
in  Fanny's  parlors,  for  the  afternoon  ;  but  May  kept  her  room  un- 
disturbed, sav^  by  a  call  from  Addie,  presenting  flowers  from  her- 
self and  Madame  Lambelle. 

Holding  the  hand  of  June  in  hers  at  the  door,  she  said,  smiling 
gracefully, — 

"  I  am  Addie,  Henry  Hughes'  daughter,  from  the  North,  Mis- 
tress Dentelle.  I  have  come  to  thank  you  for  the  great  kindness 
shown  my  father,  in  bondage." 

"Come  in,  Addie,"  said  May,  sadly.  "I  have  heard  your  name 
before.     Come  in  and  tell  me  your  story  and  June's." 

Her  father  closed  the  door  upon  them  ;  and  when  Addie  trod 
the  streets  homeward,  the  stars  were  shining. 

Claude  and  Pearl,  (as  Zaffiri  begged  to  be  called  after  the  old 
Flag  floated  over  Sumter)  waited  in  the  hotel  parlors  for  the  Sill- 
tons,  and  escorted  them  to  Mr.  Sterlingworth's  in  Mr.  John's  rebel 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  749 

carriage.  Nothing  of  Edmee's  history,  so  frankly  exposed  to  May 
the  day  previous,  was  known  to  any  one  of  the  company.  Pearl 
Lambelle  greeted  her,  as  her  Atlantic  voyage  acquaintance  and  the 
cherished  friend  of  May. 

When  Mrs.  Sillton  saw  Richard  and  Lucy  Beame,  she  raised  the 
hand  of  the  former  to  her  lips,  exclaiming,— 

"  My  revered  pastor ! " 

Richard  answered, — 

"  My  faithful  and  generous  parishioner  !  " 

She  embraced  Lucy,  exclaiming, — 

"  Thou  noblest  of  pastor's  wives,  and  the  inspiration  of  my  life  ! " 

Fanny,  hearing  these  words,  guessed  the  solution  of  the  cheering 
letter  she  had  received  from  Ohio,  the  season  after  her  brother's 
marriage,  and  saw  in  the  beautiful  and  winning  stranger  his  bene- 
factress. 

Mrs.  Sillton  cast  her  eyes  about  the  apartments,  out  of  the  long, 
open  windows  to  the  garden,  and  said  to  her  hu-band,  pressing  her 
hand  to  her  breast, — 

•'Ah,  it  is  my  turn  to  faint  now!  My  heart  throbs  violently! 
You  may  have  forgotten  !  " 

"  She  sank  quickly  upon  a  seat  near,  exclaiming, — 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  pardon  me  !  In  these  retributive  days 
my  triumph  is  among  them. 

'*  I  beg  permission  in  a  few  words,  at  present,  to  inform  you-  that 
for  years  I  was  held  a  slave  in  this  house.  I  have  lived  to  see  a 
family  of  abolitionists  occupying  the  mansion  of  Chancellor 
Mowndes,  my  father.  I  was  given  to  my  sister,  Gracie  Mowndes, 
who  accused  me  falsely  before  her  marriage  of 'dallying  with  her 
lover,  Ralph  Haywood,  simply  because  that  gentleman,  who  had 
been  absent  in  Europe,  mistook  me,  her  maid,  for  Gracie  herself, 
and  bowed  to  me  from  this  upper  piazza.  There  is  the  same  wis- 
teria, or  one  springing  from  it,  that  I  was  clipping  at  the  time !  " 

She  paused,  affected  with  strong  emotion. 

Madame  Lambelle  besought  her  to  proceed,  while  the  others 
remained  silent  with  breathless  attention. 

"  I  agree.  I  think  it  better  to  finish  this  unpleasant  subject  at 
once,  and  devote  the  afternoon  to  an  interchange  of  other 
thoughts." 


75^  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Her  husband  kindly  took  up  the  narrative,  bidding  Edm^e  rest. 

*'  Aly  wife,"  he  continued,  "  was  taken  from  this  house  to  the 
auction  sale,  by  her  sister's  orders.  There,  I  bought  the  beautiful 
girl,  made  her  free  and  married  her.  We  settled  in  Mississippi, 
where  I  was  then  in  business.  At  the  breaking  out  of  the  war  or 
just  before,  as  I  knew  it  would  come,  I  setded  my  affairs  South, 
and  removed  to  my  former  home  in  Ohio.  We  have  three  fine 
sons.  Edmee  wished  to  pay  her  respects  to  her  relatives  in 
Charleston  ;  therefore  we  are  here  most  opportunely  and  unex- 
pectedly, to  meet  our  former  friends." 

He  turned  to  Madame  Lambelle,  and  said  with  gayety, — 

"  I  have  often  recalled  tliat  strange  cotillion  on  the  ocean 
steamer,*  where  we  first  met.  Edmee  had  never  met  her  sister 
Gracie  or  Colonel  Haywood  before,  since  her  sale.'' 

"Mrs.  Sillton,"  said  Pearl  with  laughter,  "I  named  that  dance  the 
'  Equality  Cotillion.'  I  will  explain  to  you  the  mysteries  of  that 
brilliant,  gobelin  dance,  as  I  now  understand  all  the  figures  com- 
posing it.  You  know  Colonel  Haywood  and  Gracie,  also  the  cap- 
tain and  yourselves.  I  was  a  pure  white  slave,  from  this  city  — 
exiled  by  the  Fugitive  Slave  Bill.  Mr.  Vassano  was  an  acknowl- 
edged gentleman  of  color,  born  free  in  the  South.  Marie,  his 
daughter,  of  course  had  the  same  taint  of  color,  in  Colonel  Hay- 
wood's eyes,  if  he  had  not  been  charmingly  deceived." 

"I  understand!  I  understand!"  answered  Mr.  Sillton.  "The 
angels  must  have  waved  their  white  wings  over  that  combination. 
But  another  astonishment  is  forced  upon  us,  in  learning  that  the 
accomplished  favorite  upon  the  Atlantic  steamer,  Madame  Lam- 
belle, was  a  captive  from  this  city.  We  are  still  in  a  maze  of  in- 
quiry." 

The  next  hour  was  devoted  to  the  disentanglement  of  Pearl's  ex- 
periences, and  when  all  was  understood,  Mr.  Lambelle  led  Afra  to 
the  music-stand,  saying, — 

"  Let  us  have  the  '  Star-Spangled  Banner  '  on  this  rebel  piano,  as 
a  fitting  close  to  these  romantic  revelations." 

"It  is  a  union  piano  now,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Sterlingworth.  "I 
purchased  it  of  the  government-agent." 

Every  voice  joined  in  the  solemn  hymn  of  triumph.  Every  face 
was  glorified.     The  'Star-Spangled  Banner  '  was  rendered  in   oper- 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  751 

atic  Style,  although  with  a  more  profuse  embellishment  of  shakes, 
tremulos,'and  diminuendos,  than  a  strictly  classical  school  would 

have  required.  -      r^u     ^ 

On  the  morrow,  the  last  day  of  May's  continuance  in.  Charles- 
ton, she   received  Zaffiri.     No  reference  was  made  to  the  past  of 

either.  i         i       i         j 

Zaffiri  folded   INIay  in  her   arms,  kissed  the   shadowy  hands,  and 

after  much  persuasion,  half  obtained  the  promise  that  May  would 

go    North   with    her,  change  the  scene,    and    endeavor   to  regain 

health  and  spirits. 

"  Two  weeks  will  be  ample  time  for  you  to  prepare.  Captain 
Buddin^ton  will  go  on  at  that  time,  also  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Silton," 
she  said  cheerfullv.  "  You  owe  this  effort  to  Papa  Bloome,  and 
to  your   indulgent'  Papa   Dentelle.     Their   lives  are  bound  up  in 

yours." 

May  returned  to  Savannah  in  the  care  of  an  officer,  an  acquaint- 
ance of  the  captain's.  Major  Dentelle  gave  her  a  more  cordial 
welcome  than  ever  before.  As  she  expected,  Mr.  Bloome  wason 
his  way  to  Indiana,  which  he  had  not  visited  during  the  war,  having 
spent  the  four  years  in  his  widowed  house  purchased  before  the 
the  death  of  his  wife. 

After  a  sufficient  rest.  Major  Dentelle  sought  from  May  the 
result  of  her  conference  with  Mrs.  Sillton.  Without  evasion  she 
gave  a  summarv  answer. 

"Oh,  papal'Edmee  has  furnished  the  finishing  chapter  of  my 
life.     My  slave  lineage  is  fully  traced."  . 

After  relating  the  incidents  of  her  purchase,  she  presented  him 
the  identical  paper  signed  by  William  Steele  at  '  Le  Grand  Palais,' 
South  Carolina,  which  Mr.  Sillton  took  from  the  trader's  hands  m 

Mississipi. 

"Of  course,"  she  says,  "Mr.  Sillton  knew  nothing  of  the  ante- 
cedents related  by  old  June  ;  but  the  testimony  of  both  corrobo- 
rates all."  Ml,,,  -1  1 

"  Do  not  weep  continually,  my  beautiful  child,  he  said  consol- 
in-^ly.  "  I  repeat  to  you  again  and  again,  that  you  are  as  dear  to 
m?  now  as  on  the  day  of  your  marriage.  Dry  those  lustreless 
eyes,  and  listen  to  a  secret  of  my  life,  which  your  immoderate 
and  wearing  grief  obliges  me  to  confide  to  your  keeping. 


752  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  My  dear  May,  there  have  been  customs  in  the  South,  of  which 
you  may  not  be  aware.  The  pure  and  devoted  affection  of  Augus- 
tus for  you,  his  first  and  only  love,  precludes  the  probability. 
The  men  of  the  South  before  the  war,  took  wives,  or  mistresses,  as 
you  please  to  term  them,  from  all  shades  of  color  from  our  slaves. 
They  often  remained  attached  to  them  through  life.  Now  a 
slave-girl  or  woman  could  not  legally  marry  either  one  of  her  own 
race  or  of  ours.  Your  Papa  Dentelle  in  his  youth,  saw  a  lovely 
slave-girl  and  loved  her,  bought  her,  and  took  apartments,  living 
with  her  like  any  man  in  his  family ;  never,  however,  forsaking 
his  paternal  borne.  This  slave-girl,  handsome  as  an  Eastern 
princess,  and  graceful  as  your  Zaffiri,  bore  me  three  children.  I 
was  young,  reckless,  and  a  spendthrift,  wasted  my  fortune,  in- 
curred the  displeasure  of  my  parents,  and  married  the  wife  you 
know,  Augustus'  mother,  thus  repairing   by  her  fortune,  my   losses. 

"The  octoroon  was  sold  by  my  orders  in  Charleston,  and  her 
children  also.  I  have  never  ceased  to  love  her  memory  or  to  feel 
a  sharp  agony  when  I  think  of  her  heart-breaking  separation  from 
me.  May,  my  poor  May,  old  June  has  shown  me  her  fate,  and 
opened  afresh  my  self-inflicted  wound.  That  octaroon  girl  was 
Isabel,  your  mother." 

"  Oh,  papa !  I  never  dreamed  of  such  loves !  How  dreadful 
must  have  been  her  fate.  How  terrible  must  have  been  her  agony 
to  have  left  it  written  in  letters  of  blood  on  the  shoulders  of  her 
child.     Poor  dear  Isabel !  my  beautiful  mother  !  " 

She  was  sobbing  now,  not  over  her  own  sorrow ;  she  had  stepped 
upon  a  higher  plane  of  discipline.  She  sobbed  for  the  griefs  of 
another.  The  gray-headed  Southerner  neither  checked  nor 
soothed  her.  Isabel's  memory  was  resuscitating  what  slavery  had 
left  of  humanity  in  his  bosom. 

'•  Am  I  like  Isabel,  papa  ?  " 

"  You  are  like  her  and  have  ever  been.  I  have  analyzed  during 
your  absence,  the  elements  of  your  belle-ship  in  Washington 
before  your  marriage.  I  recall  your  peculiar  fascination,  and  have 
traced  your  likeness  to  Isabel.  You  had  her  changeable,  dreamy, 
sparkling  eyes,  her  naivete,  her  hd-esprit^  her  hauteur,  her  insouci- 
ance, and  as  to  features,  the  mirror  tells  the  rest.  It  is  a  physi- 
ological fact  that  the  mingling  of  different  races  and  nationalities 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  753 


produces  the  finest  specimens  of  human  beauty.  I  have  admired 
ihe  splendid  Western  physique  in  Sherman's  army  despite  my 
hatred  of  Northern  hordes  ;  it  is  the  result  of  the  intermarriages 
of  different  nationalities   that  emigrate  to  the   North,  from  every 

country  in  Europe.  r  t     ,    i    u        r 

"  To  return  to  May  Bloome,  I  never  thought  of  Isabel  then,  tor 
how,  I  ask,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  could  I  begin  to  imagine  the 
stupendous  fact,  that  my  Augustus  would  ever  marry  the  child  of  Isa- 
bel i  I  only  felt  your  fascinating  charms  as  others  did.  You  have 
my  secret  now.  May,  as  a  guarantee  that  you  will  be  doubly  dear , 
to  me  for  this  discovery.  So  take  heart.  Go  to  New  York  with 
the  Lambelles.  He  is  a  democrat  of  the  old  stamp.  He  upholds 
Southern  Rights  and  Secession,  which  is  not  dead  yet.  Your 
Southern  pride  will  not  be  wounded  in  his  family.  Why  did  he 
not  come  with  his  wife  to  Savannah  ?  " 

"  Dear  papa,  they  were  actuated  by  the  most  delicate  motives  — 
they  feel  tha  t  this  is  not  a  time  for  condolence  or  congratulations 
towards  men  of  the  South.  ,,      „ 

"  Like  Lambelle  !  "  he  said.     "  Come  out  into  the  garden,  May. 

She   took  Major    Dentelle's    arm,   adorning   his  gray  age  with 

her  ripe,  fair  womanhood.  ,     ,     i  i 

They  wandered  among  the  paths  and  arbors,  as  she  had  done  in 
the  past  with  her  beloved  Augustus. 

He  broke  a  stem  of  the  white  Pcrles  de  V  Lnperatrice,  fastened 
them  in  her  hair,  saying, —  . 

"  May,  I  am  still  rich.  I  have  not  lost  my  possessions  like 
thousands  of  others.  My  blockade-running  was  a  successful  ven- 
ture.    You  will  be  the  sole  heir  of  my  gold  and  estates." 

He  requested  her  to  be  seated  in  an  arbor ;  and  after  further 
conversation,  placed  in  her  hands  an  elaborately  wrought  ivory  box. 
She  took  from  it  a  gold  locket,  which  he  opened  by  a  secret  spring. 
There,  folded  in  its  natural  rings,  was  a  black  silken  curl  which 
dropped  down  in  its  ravishing  beauty,  as  she  raised  it- from  its  vel- 

'' There  is  a  memento  of  your  mother's  charms,"  he  said.  "  That 
is  a  tress  of  Isabel's  hair,  which  I  have  guarded  with  miserly  care, 
through  the  long,  dreary  years.  I  transfer  it  to  her  daughter's 
keeping.     Wear  it,  dear  May,  for  Isabel's  sake." 


754  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

After  May's  departure,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sillton  spent  much  time 
walking  about  Charleston,  viewing  the  desolate  scenes  of  the  de- 
vastating fire  of  1861,  and  the  destruction  of  Hardee's  insane  in- 
cendiarism in  the  spring  of  1865.  They  often  passed  the  house 
where  Pauline  had  the  rooms  with  the  woman  of  Leonore's  brother's 
choice,  where  Pauline  met  Zoe  on  the  night  of  her  sale,  and  where 
Zoe  was  married  to  the  man  she  loved. 

As  they  passed  one  morning,  a  gentleman  dressed  in  faded, 
seedy  clothes,  and  rusty  gloves,  encountered  them  at  the  foot  of 
the  steps.  He  was  followed  by  a  servant,  carrying  the  inevitable 
Yankee  rations. 

"  By  Jove  !  "  said  the  Southerner,  "do  I  see  right  ?  Is  this  Mr. 
Sillton,  from  Mississippi,  our  acquaintance  on  the  European 
steamer  ? " 

"  The  same,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Sillton.  Mrs.  Sillton  has  been  de- 
sirous of  paying  her  respects  to  Mrs.  Haywood.  Will  your  lady 
receive  a  call  this  morning  ?  " 

"  Certainl}',  you  are  Mississippians.  If  you  were  Yankees,  I 
should  say,  '  Move  on  !  '  Mrs.  Haywood  will  give  any  true  South- 
erner a  friendly  hand." 

They  entered  the  half-furnished,  plain  parlor,  with  bare  board 
floors  ;  were  cordially  received,  and  listened  for  two  long  hours  to 
the  trials  of  the  war,  which  had  been  hopefully  endured  for  the 
Southern  cause. 

"This  is  one  of  my  father's  —  Chancellor  Mowndes'-houses," 
said  Gracie.  "We  came  back  from  Columbia,  and  found  papa's 
mansion  filled  with  Northerners.  Mr.  Haywood's  fine  house  on 
Broad  street  was  burned  in  the  terrible  fire  of  186 1.  It  is  too  late 
in  the  season  to  attempt  cultivation  at  '  Vaucluse,'  even  if  the 
Northern  barbarians  have  left  the  plantation  tenable.  How  have 
you  been  during  the  struggle  in  Mississippi  ?  " 

"  We  were  not  located  near  the  points  of  contest,  and  conse- 
quently havcnot  suffered  like  many  others,  although  Mr.  Sillton 
has  given  freely  of  his  means  to  sustain  the  war,  (meaning  the 
Federal  side.)  I  felt  a  great  interest  in  the  misfortunes  of 
Charleston,  and  hastened  here  as  soon  as  the  way  opened." 

"  Alas  !  "  said  Gracie,  "you  find  us  all  helplessly  poor,  although 
we  intend  to  carry  on  the  contest  till  Independence  hovers  around 


WHITE    MAY,    ANDBLACK   JUNE.  755 

our  banners.  I  could  have  torn  those  colors  from  Admiral  Dahl- 
gren's  squadron,  in  honor  of  Lee's  surrender,  and  trampled  them 
under  mv  feet !     Our  Cause  is  7iot  lost  I " 

'•  Sherman  will  find  his  match  in  Johnston  ;  he  will  not  surren- 
der !  "  said  Colonel  Haywood  testily.  "Neither  will  our  army  in 
the  south-west.  Roused  by  the  proclamation  of  Jefferson  Davis, 
they  will  strive  on,  m  the  spirit  of  his  closing  words.'' 

He  took  from  his  pocket  a  rudely  printed  paper,  and  read, — 

"  Let  us  not  despond,  my  countrymen  ;  but  relying  on  God,  meet  the 
foe  with  fresh  defiance,  afid  with  unconquered  and  nnconquerable 
hearts  y 

"  Mr  Sillton,  we  shall  help  Jefferson  Davis,  our  President  of  the 
Confederacy,  carry  out  this  reliance,  outside  of  the  army.  We 
shall  enlarge  our  organization  of  the  '  Order  of  American  Knights  !' 
It  works  in  Missouri,  like  a  charm.  I  made  my  way  there  last  au- 
tumn, for  special  observations.  These  '  Knights  '  profess  to  be 
neutral.  They  are  apparently  a  quiet  people  ;  and  if  questioned 
upon  the  war  issues,  they  answer,  they  tuck  fio  sides.  But,  sir,  they 
carry  on  a  successful  guerrilla  warfare." 

"  That  must  be  an  effective  organization,"  said  Mr.  Sillton. 
"Did  you  witness  its  activ^e  operations .''  " 

"  By  Jupiter !  I  did.  I  mounted  a  horse,  and  went  along  with 
Anderson's  gang,  that  attacked  a  railroad  train  on  the  North  J\lis- 
souri  road.  He  found  aboard  twenty-two  unarmed  soldiers  on  sick 
leave.  He  took  them  out,  and  shot  every  one.  Some,  he  scalped, 
■others,  were  laid  across  the  railroad  track,  and  the  engine  was  run 
over  them  !  I  assisted  in  the  latter  duty.  I  should  like  to  put 
these  blue-coats  here  in  Charleston,  through  the  same  process. 
General  Price  was  Commander-in-Chief  of  this  order  in  the  South, 
and  Vallandigham,  of  Ohio,  in  the  North.  You  have  joined  the 
order  of  course,  Mr.  Sillton." 

"  I  have  subscribed  my  name,  sir,  (meaning  to  the  Sanitary 
Commission,)  and  have  made  my  most  strenuous  efforts  to  further 
its  designs." 

"  That's  the  true  spirit,  Mr.  Sillton,"  said  Colonel  Haywood, 
shaking  his  hand  with  eagerness.  "Go  in  for  our  secret  Order  — 
exterminate  Union  men  everywhere  !     I  found  the  women   of  Mis- 


7S6  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

souri  as  earnest  as  the  men  in  this  kind  of  warfare.  I  expect 
Gracie  and  Mrs.  Sillton  will  be  as  enthusiastic  as  they." 

Edmee  replied, — 

"  I  shall  throw  my  heart  and  efforts  into  every  good  work,  Colo- 
nel Haywood.  Remember,  I  am  a  Southerner  with  the  best  of 
blue  blood  as  an  incentive." 

She  turned  to  Gracie,  and  asked, — 

'•  Did  you  lose  anything  of  value  in  Sherman's  raid  on  Co- 
lumbia.?" 

"  We  lost  all  our  movable  valuables.  Those  renegades  took  fifty 
thousand  dollars  worth  of  solid  silver  plate ;  we  have  not  a  piece 
left.  During  that  ravaging  fire,  I  saw  them  break  open  my  trunk 
and  distribute  our  clothes  to  the  half-naked  negroes  that  followed 
their  regiments  !  She  held  up  the  striped  delaine  dress  she  wore 
to  Edmee.  *  See  !  I've  had  that  dress  ten  years.  It  is  my  best.  I 
have  no  bonnet  suitable  to  appear  in  public.'" 

The  gentlemen  were  absorbed  in  their  own  discourse.  Edme'e 
drew  Gracie  to  the  window,  and  took  from  her  purse  two  fifty-dol- 
lar greenbacks,  saying, — 

"  Mrs.  Haywood,  can  I  offer  these  without  offense  ?  I  beg  you 
to  accept  them.  We  are  both  Southern  born.  I  have  not  suffered 
like  you.  Receive  them  as  a  small  gift  from  one  sister  to 
another." 

Gracie  hesitated,  but  finally  carried  Edmee's  hand  that  held  the 
bills  to  her  lips.  She  accepted  them,  wet  with  her  own  tears.  At 
parting,  a  kiss  of  unsought  forgiveness  remained  upon  Grade's  lips, 
and  a  kiss  of  gratitude  on  Edmee's. 

After  many  inquiries  of  the  old  maumas  that  shuffled  along  the 
streets,  Mrs.  Sillton,  to  her  great  joy,  found  one  who  knew  Pauline. 
With  a  low  courtesy,  she  said, — 

"She  be  dead,  missis.  She  die  after  Sumter  Took.  Is  you 
Pauline  chile,  I  hear  her  talk  'bout  ? " 

''  I  am  her  child,  mauma  !  " 

"  Press  de  Lord  ! "  said  the  old  creature,  courtesying. 

From  her,  Edmee  learned  that  her  mother  died  in  the  nouse 
where  Gracie  now  lived,  surrounded  with  all  needed  comforts.  Be- 
fore the  war  Pauline  had  been  gladdened  by  the  sight  of  one  of 
Edmee's  children,  a  daughter  of  twelve  years.    One  of  Mr.  Sillton's 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  757 

friends  had  taken  her  to  Charleston  and  put  up  with  her  openly,  at 
the  hotel.  Her  guardian,  with  proper  directions  as  to  the  street 
and  number,  took  the  young  Pauline  to  her  grandmother's  rooms 
every  evening,  under  cover  of  darkness,  thus  spending  a  week  in 
Charleston,  unknown. 

Mr.  Sillton  received  several  calls  from  Colonel  Haywood,  in  the 
seedy  coat,  rusty  gloves,  and  napless  hat,  at  the  Charleston  Hotel ; 
and  was  as  often  urged  to  actively  espouse  the  cause  of  the  Ameri- 
can Knights  as  a  Mississippian  and  a  supporter  of  the  Southern 
cause. 

Upon  Edmee's  return  North,  she  mailed  a  letter  in  New  York  to 
Gracie.  She  explained  her  late  visit  to  Charleston,  made  her  re- 
lationship to  Gracie  known,  and  communicated  a  history  of  her 
happy  past.  She  extended  a  generous  forgiveness,  besought  her 
sister  to  become  reconciled  to  the  inevitable  decrees  of  Truth  and 
Justice,  and  signed  her  name  "  Zoe." 


CHAPTER  XXXVHI. 

THE  last  of  the  month  of  May  brought  Mr.  Link  and  Mary, 
with  the  handsome  lawyer,  Alfred  Buddington,  to  the  bosom 
of  Mr.  Sterlingworth's  family. 

Again,  objects  and  places  of  interest  were  visited.  Again,  the 
wonderful  occurrences  of  the  few  past  years  were  revived. 

"  Four  years  of  '  Waterloo  '  we  have  had,"  said  Mr.  Link  ;  *'  that 
should  be  enough  to  put  down  this  Southern  Napoleonic  dynasty !  " 

"  I  do  not  think  the  South  know  when  they  are  beaten  any  more 
than  their  arrogant  prototype,  Bonaparte,  did.  The  eff^  ctive 
strength  and  means  of  the  Confederacy  are  exhausted.  They  are 
forced  to  lay  down  their  arms  j  but  really  they  are  as  cruel,  as  de- 
fiant, and  self  laudatory  to  day,  as  in  1861." 

"  If  there  must  be  vicarious  blood  in  every  kind  of  salvation,  ex- 
tending even  to  the  Union,  then  I  should  suppose  the  blood  of  six 
hundred  thousand  men  would  suffice  for  the  safety  of  our  Repub- 
lic," replied  Mr.  Link. 

"It  would  seem  so,  to  a  humane  mind;  but  these  Southerners  arc 


758  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

blood-tliirstw     We  have  proof  of  it  in  their  secret  Societies,  formed 
for  the  assassination  of  Union  men  and  abolitionists. 

"There  was  an  Alabama  planter,  a  Northern  man,  who  in  1S60 
en  me  near  a  violent  death  on  account  of  an  intercepted  letter  from 
Connecticut.  The  old  tricks  of  intercepting  letters,  you  see  I  Tljis 
letter  besought  him  to  give  up  his  slaves  and  go  North.  To  save 
his  own  life  he  was  obliged  to  join  the  minute-men  and  assist  in 
hanging  six  Northern  men.  In  six  weeks  one  hundred  men  were 
hung  in  his  section  and  the  neighboring  section  of  Georgia.  Then 
the  unprecedented  cruelty  of  the  Confederates  towards  Northern 
prisoners,  in  Andersonville,  Belle-Isle,  and  other  war  prisons  proves 
of  what  cold-blooded  atrocities  the  Southerner  is  capable.  In  my 
opinion  that  kind  of  Southern  sentiment  is'unchanged." 

"  I  think  also,"  replied  Mr.  Link,  "  that  if  the  legislatures  of  the 
States  in  rebellion  are  allowed  to  assemble,  they  will  pursue  the 
old  courses  of  offensive  legislation.  President  Lincoln  made  that 
tpst  in  Richmond,  when  he  promised  a  safeguard  to  Judge  Camp- 
bell, for  the  members  who  should  assemble.  Campbell's  promises 
were  changed  into  a  general  legislation  for  the  State.  But  the 
President  soon  saw  his  error,  and  ordered  General  Weitzel  to 
revoke  the  safeguard,  and  permit  the  members  of  the  legislature  to 
return  to  private  life." 

]\Ir.  Scerlingworth  replied  that  Governor  Magrath  had  summoned 
the  State  officers  of  South  Carolina  to  Columbia,  to  resume  their 
duties. 

''Mr.  Link,"  said  Afra,  clapping  her  hands,  '*' General Gillmore, 
with  a  few  strokes  of  his  military  pen,  has  annulled  Governor 
Magrath's  acts,  and  has  notified  persons  interested  not  to  heed  his 
proclamations.  This  people  know  very  well  that  General Gillmore's 
sword  lies  beside  his  pen  !  "  , 

"  He  has  annulled  Governor  Brown's  proclamation  in  Georgia, 
and  a  similar  act  in  Florida,"  said  her  father. 

**  Is  it  not  singular,"  asked  Afra,  "  that  these  slave-masters  who 
always  demanded  the  military  to  put  down  slave  insurrections, 
should  find  the  Federal  army  holding  the  sword  of  subjection  over 
their  own  insurrectionary  heads.''  " 

"The  South  claimed  the  arbitration  of  the  sword,  and  its  prayer 
is  answered,"  replied  Fanny,  laughing. 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  759 

"The  last  Northern  concession  to  the  South  was  an  engagement 
in  civil  war.  Now  what  will  be  the  first  concession  from  the  South 
to  the  North.?"  asked  Mr.  Sterlingworth. 

"Reconstruction  !  "  was  the  unanimous  answer 

"I  think,"  said  Mr.  Link  in  his  calm  manner,  "that  a  thorough 
reconstruction  of  this  section  will  include  colored  suffra"-e,  and  an 
accordance  to  the  freedmen  of  all  rights  we  ourselves  enjo}'.  Both 
of  these  preliminaries  have  many  opponents  in  the  North,  in  Con- 
gress, and  in  President  Johnson.  The  struggle  will  be  a  hard  one  ; 
andj  it  appears  to  me,  will  keep  our  army  in  requisition  for  some 
time  to  come." 

"The  Anti-Slavery  amendment  went  through  Congress  by  the 
skin  of  its  teeth — 119  ayes  to  59  nays  —  nays  all  Democrats  — 
only  seven  votes  more  than  two  thirds,"  said  Alfy.  "Thank  God  ! 
sixteen  Democrats  voted  with  the  Republicans.  With  Greely  and 
the  one  hundred  guns  that  saluted  the  sublime  result,  I  say,'  God 
bless  the  Thirtv-Eighth  American  Congress ! '  I  was  present. 
Miss  Afra,  in  Washington,  and  never  witnessed  a  more  thrilling 
scene.  Despite  the  gloom  on  the  Democratic  side  over  their  foiled 
attempts  to  '  ram  the  struggling  negro  back  under  the  protection  of 
the  sacred  Constitution,'  the  enthusiasm  was  unbounded,  in  the 
crowded  galleries  and  with  the  throng  on  the  floor.  Senators, 
judges,  soldiers,  women  and  pages  joined  in  the  august  and  thun- 
dering excitement.  Amid  the  waving  of  handkerchiefs  and  hats, 
and  clapping  hands,  rose  cries  of,  '  Hurrah  for  Freedom  !  '  '  Vic- 
tory ! '  '  Glory  enough  for  one  day ! '  The  tumult  was  deaf- 
ening." 

"  The  silvery  voice  of  Whittier  took  up  the  echo,  and  completed 
the  triumph,"  said  Mary.  "  Do,  Alfy,  repeat  a  part  of  his  Lau^ 
Deo.  I  never  tire  of  hearing  that,"  she  said,  with  idolatry  for  her 
son  in  the  very  tone. 

"  Do,  Alfy,"  begged  Afra. 

He  repeated, — 

**  It  is  done  ! 

Clang  of  bell  and  roar  of  gun, 
Send  the  tidings  up  and  down. 

How  the  belfries  rock  and  reel  ! 

How  the  great  guns,  peal  on  peal, 
Fling  the  joy  from  town  to  town  .' 


760  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Ring,  O  bells! 

Every  strike  exulting  tells 
Of  the  burial  hour  of  crime. 

Loud  and  long,  that  all  may  hear, 

Ring  for  every  listening  ear 
Of  Eternity  and  Time. 

How  they  pale, 
Ancient  myth  and  song  and  tale, 

In  this  wonder  of  our  days, 
When  the  cruel  rod  of  war 
Blossoms  white  with  righteous  law, 

And  the  wrath  of  man  is  praise. 

Ring  and  swing  ! 

Bells  of  joy  on  morning's  wing 
Send  the  song  of  praise  abroad, 

With  a  sound  of  broken  chains, 

Tell  the  nations  that  He  reigns, 
God  alone,  is  Lord  and  God." 

"What  a  solemn  grandeur  is  in  those  words,"  said  Fanny.  "  No 
Southerner  could  have  written  them.  A  true  and  earnest  love  of 
freedom   exalts  all  talent  and  literature." 

"  What  would  the  world  say  to  hear  such  words  from  the  lips  of 
Barnwell  Rhett }  "  asked  Mr.  Link,  a  smile  stealing  over  his  be- 
nignant face.  "  He,  more  than  any  other,  has  fired  the  Southern 
heart  with  madness.  This  is  what  he  said,  in  i860,  of  the  North. 
*  Upon  a  dissolution  of  the  Union,  their  whole  system  of  commerce 
and  manufactures  will  be  paralyzed  and  overthrown  ;  their  banks 
will  suspend  specie  payments  ;  their  stocks  and  real  estate  will  fall 
in  price,  and  confusion  and  distress  will  pervade  the  North.  Mobs 
will  break  into  their  palaces,  and  society  there  will  be  resolved 
into  its  original  chaos.  Many  of  the  Free  States  will  desire  to  join 
us  ;  but,  you  see,  on  the  condition  that  the  Southern  Confederacy 
should  be  a  slave-holding  Confederacy.'  " 

"  That  bubble  has  burst  with  an  explosion  !  "  exclaimed  Alfy. 

"  True,  the  world  heard  it,"  answered  Mr.  Sterlingworth.  "  For 
years,  the  Southern  leaders  have  educated  their  families  and  the 
masses  up  to  a  belief  of  these  absurd  falsehoods.  The  most  malig- 
nant reproach  I  remember  to  have  seen  flung  at  us  Yankees  was 
in  a  paoer  that  Mr.  Lambelle  brought  to  me  after  one  of  his  excur- 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  761 

sions  South.  It  was  in  the  Iron  Furnace ;  the  speech  of  John  H. 
Augey,  a  Presbyterian  clergyman  of  Mississippi." 

Fanny  brought  the  paper  and  he  read, — 

"  The  Yankees  are  an  inferior  race ;  they  are  cowardly  in  the 
extreme  ;  they  are  descended  from  the  Puritan  stock  who  never 
bore  rule  in  any  nation.  We,  the  descendants  of  the  Cavaliers, 
are  the  Patricians ;  they,  the  Plebians.  The  Cavaliers  have  aUvays 
been  the  rulers,  the  Puritans  the  ruled.  The  dastardly  Yankees 
will  never  fight  us  :  but  if  they,  in  their  presumption  and  audacity, 
venture  to  attack  us,  let  the  war  come.  I  repeat  it,  let  it  come. 
The  conflagration  of  their  burning  cities,  the  desolation  of  their 
country,  and  the  slaughter  of  their  inhabitants,  will  strike  the 
nations  of  the  earth  dumb  with  astonishment,  and  serve  as  a  warn- 
ing to  future  ages,  that  the  slave-holding  Cavaliers  of  the  Sunny 
South  are  terrible  in  their  vengeance.  .  .  .  We  will  drive  back 
to  their  inhospitable  clime,  every  Yankee  who  dares  to  pollute  our 
shores  with  his  cloven  foot.  Go  he  must,  and  if  necessary,  with 
the  bloodhounds  on  his  tracks.  The  scum  of  Europe,  and  the 
mud-sills  of  Yankeedom  shall  never  be  permitted  to  advance  a  step 
south  of  thirty-six  degrees,  thirty  minutes,  the  old  Missouri  Com- 
promise line.  South  of  that  latitudeis  ours,  westward  to  the  Pacific. 
With  my  heart  of  hearts,  /  /lafe  a  Ya^ikce ;  and  I  will  make  my 
children  swear  eternal  hatred  to  the  whole  Yankee  race. 

"  In  battle,  one  Southerner  is  equivalent  to  ten  Northern  hire- 
lings. .  .  .  We  have  free  institutions — freedom  for  the  white 
man,  bondage  for  the  black  man  —  as  Nature  and  Nature's  God 
designed.  The  lines  have  fallen  to  us  in  pleasant  places.  The 
only  evil  we  complain  of,  is  our  bondage  to  the  Yankees  through 
the  Federal  Union.  Let  us  burst  these  shackles  from  our  limbs, 
and  we  will  be  free  again." 

"  Well,  the  Yankees  are  here  in  their  *  pleasant  places,'  protected 
by  Federal  bayonets,  and  they  find  their  stay  very  agreeable," 
laughed  Alfy.  *•  What  is  the  Rev.  Mr.  Augey  going  to  do  about 
it  ? " 

"  The  religious  offices  of  that  clergyman  would  be  a  sjreat  aid  in 
Cloudspire  revivals,"  said  Mr.  Link.  "Think  so,  Mrs.  Sterling- 
worth  ? " 

She  replied, — 


762  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

"  On  the  subject  of  Yankees,  Cloudspire  might  consider  him  a 
fanatical  innovater  ;  but  his  religion  would  be  as  available  as  Wil- 
liam Steele's  and  Edmund  Stone's." 

Afra  skipped  in  from  the  garden  with  her  hands  full  ot  roses, 
which  she  distributed  to  all. 

"  Listen  to  that  musical  voice,  crying  blackberries,  in  the  streets, 
clear  and  rich  as  a  prima  donna's." 

She  rang  for  Abram,  and  bade  him  purchase  and  bring  them 
into  the  parlor,  on  a  salver,  for  the  company.  She  said  to  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Link,/ — 

"  You  must  go  out  this  morning ;  the  city  is  pervaded  with  the 
enchanting  haze  and  balmy  air  I  love  so  much.  Go  down  to 
White  Point  Garden;  you  must  drink  deep  draughts  of  this  deli- 
cious climate  before  you  return  North.  While  you  are  all  partak- 
ing of  berries  I  will  sing  and  play 'Hail  Columbia'as  a  close  to  this 
morning's  tctea-tetey 

"Miss  Afra,"  said  Alfy,  "can  I  peisuade  you  to  extend  our 
musical  enjoyment  by  singing  us  Gottschalk's  '  Last  Ilopi,'  for  the 
Sunny  South  ;  his  ^  chant  du  Soldct  for  our  'Boys  in  Blue,' and 
Thalberg's  '  Home  sweet  Home,'  for  the  '  Boys  in  Gray  ? '  " 

She  consented,  to  the  general  gratification.  After  the  music,  she 
said, — 

'•  I  am  going  over  to  assist  Addie  and  Corinne  as  usual.  I  shall 
dine  there,  dear  mother." 

Alfy  stood  before  his  father  and  niother  in  full,  manly  beauty, 
hat  in  hand.  Cultivated  intellect,  contact  with  refined  society  and 
the  professional  world,  have  recast  the  angelic  sweetness  of  be- 
loved boyhood  into  the  mould  of  the  self-poised,  polished  gentle- 
man who  is  ^everywhere  recognized  with  respectful  regard.  A 
cooler,  grayer  tone  has  crept  into  the  azure  beneath  his  still  mod-- 
est  lids.  The  flaxen  hair  has  deepened  into  an  auburn  brown. 
Brown,  curling  side-whiskers,  and  a  heavy  moustachelendssufficient 
severity  to  the  fair,  expressive,  and  still  tender  face.  A  faultless 
toilet  finishes  the  tout  ensanhle  of  his  personal  attractions. 

"My  best  beloved,"  he  said  to  Mary  and  Mr.  Link,  "I  shall 
spend  the  day  out,  dining  and  supping  with  Doctor  Paisley.  I 
shall  ride   with  the  doctor  this  afternoon;  but  to-morrow  I  shall 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  763 

ride    with   you,   father.      The    officers   of  our   acquaintance   have 
kindl}^  proffered  the  use  of  fine  horses,  while  I  remain  here." 

lie  drew  on  his  gloves,  adding, — 

*'  Make  yourselves  as  happy  as  possible.  Mrs.  Sterlingworth  is 
an  excellent  hostess.     I  leave  you  in  her  care." 

Giving  Afra  his  arm,  they  went  out,  leaving  affectionate  good- 
mornings. 

"  Fanny,  come  here,"  requested  Mary,  who  was  leaning  on  the 
balustrade  of  the  piazza,  following  Alfy  and  Afra  out  of  the  gate 
with  her  gaze.  "  Fanny,  is  not  that  a  handsome  pair?  Do  yoa 
know  what  I  have  been  thinking.?  Since  our  arrival,  I  have 
wished  that  the  union  of  our  two  children  might  add  one  more  tie 
to  the  circle  of  tried  friends  in  Cloudspire  and  Alderbank.'' 

*'  Afra  is  a  singular  child,"  replied  Fanny,  smiling.  "I  have 
never  discovered  the  first  germ  of  love  in  her  intercourse  with 
gentlemen.  See,  Mary!  she  is  talking  and  looking  up  into  Alfy's 
face  now,  with  the  frankness  of  a  sister.  Love  supposes  shyness. 
We  have  frequent  calls  from  agreeable  and  fine  looking  young 
officers,  who  probably  are  attracted  by  her  music  und  the  home 
life  they  meet  here.  Afra  makes  no  efforts  to  please  or  attract 
beyond  the  bounds  of  politeness  and  her  natural  vivacity.  I  shall 
be  both  satisfied  and  gratified  if  her  choice  falls  on  one  so  noble 
and  worthy  as  Alfy." 

The  days  of  Madam  Valmonte  and  Corinne  glided  away  with 
much  uniformity.  Corinne  was  still  patient,  though  tried  by  her 
mother's  umceasing  invectives  against  the  Yankees,  who  had 
brought  this  cruel  war  upon  the  South,  as  well  as  by  her  constant 
repinings  at  her  losses  and  piivatious.  She  went  out  on  pleasant 
days,  leaving  Corinne  to  make  up  necessary  clothing  purchased 
with  the  money  accruing  from  the  sales  of  her  wardrobe,  and  other 
articles  of  value.     She  had  said  to   Corinne  that  moinino^, — 

'•  This  is  terrible  !  I,  who  used  to  ride  in  my  carriage  every- 
where, am  walking  about  these  streets  like  any  low-bred  sand- 
hiller!" 

Corinne   had  replied, — 

"  Dear  mam.ma,  all  our  ladies  do  the  same,  they  experience  the 
same  vicissitudes  as  we  ;  "  and  had  received  the  answer, — 


764  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  Corinne,  I  cannot  bear  other  people's  troubles ;  my  own  are 
sufficient  for  me." 

Corinne  knew  nothing  of  cutting  or  making.  Addie,  in  her  never- 
failing  kindness,  said  to  her, — 

"  I  will  help  you.  My  sewing-machine  wall  save  your  poor  fin- 
gers." 

Afra  gave  her  assistance,  basting  and  planning  for  the  ma- 
chine. The  work  was  carried  to  Addie's  parlor,  as  often  as  Mis- 
tress Valmonte  went  out. 

Ignorant  of  all  this,  she  has  praised  Corinne 's  dexterity,  and 
said, — 

*'  Why,  my  child,  you  stitch  beautifully,  and  you  never  made  an 
article  before !  It  is  a  relief  to  me,  for  I  cannot  frame  my  fingers 
to  the  use  of  the  needle  and  thimble." 

When  Alfy  and  Afra  entered  the  parlor,  Corinne  was  at  her 
work  with  Addie.  She  had  frequently  met  Lawyer  Euddington 
there,  since  his  arrival  in  Charleston,  and  w-hile  he  bowed  low, 
and  lightly  touched  her  hand  on  this  occasion,  her  eyes  took  on  an 
unwonted  lustre  ;  the  faintest  rose-petal  tint  spread  over  her  cheek. 

Afra  was  soon  equipped  for  sewing,  and  set  about  it  with  energy, 
petitioning  that  Mr.  Buddington  would  read  aloud  a  few  poems  of 
Longfellow,  to  which  he  consented.  As  often  as  he  raised  his 
eyes  from  the  page,  and  by  chance  caught  the  soulful  gaze  of 
Corinne,    her  lids  dropped. 

He  was  reading  'Evangeline,'  often  interrupted  by  the  lively 
criticisms  of  Afra.  To  the  full  mellifluous  flow  of  Alfy's  voice, 
hers  was  like  the  sparkling,  sun-lighted  spray  by  the  fountain. 

Of   Evangeline  returnmg  home  after  confesson,  he  read, — 

"  Homeward  silently  she  walked,  with  God's  benediction  upon 
her.  When  she  had  passed,  it  seemed  like  the  ceasing  of  exquisite 
musicy 

"  I  declare,"  laughed  Afra,  addressing  Corinne,  "  I  think  you 
must  have  passed  by  the  poet,  for  that  picture  !  " 

"  Too  high  a  compliment  for  me.  Miss  Afra,"  she  replied,  raising 
her  head  suddenly  from  her  work.  Her  casual  glance  fell  full  into 
the  liquid  depths  of  the  eyes  of  the  silent  reader.  Their  melting 
tenderness  seemed  to  repeat  the  words  of  Afra. 

"I  am  sure  Afra  is  right,"  said  Addie.     "The  poet  must  have 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  '  765 

had  a  vision  of    Corinne  !     I  always  feel  the  sentiment  of  that  line, 
when  she  passes  out  of  our  parlor." 

From  very  confusion,  her  glance  wandered  somewhere  —  any- 
where, for  modest  concealment.  Again  it  melted  into  the  same 
welcoming  sweetness  of  Alfy's  azure  eyes,  that  again  gave  affirma- 
tion  to  Addie's  devotion  ;  and  again,  her  glance  fluttered   away, 

constrained  and  afraid.  -j     >-.     • 

"  I  beg  Mr.  Buddington  will  resume  the  reading,    said    Corinne. 
"After    a    pleasant  episode,"    he    said,  bowing,  and  continued 

When  the  poem  followed  Evangeline  over  the  prairie  in  search  of 

Gabriel,  Afra  said, —  ,       .     . 

■hould  like  to  inquire  of  Mr.  Longfellow  if  that  is  the  way  to 


((   T 


'  Make  our  lives  sublime, 
And  departing,  leave  i)ehind  us, 

Footprints  on  the  sands  of  time  ? 
Footprints  that  perhaps  another 

Sailing  oe'r  life's  solemn  main, — 
A  forlorn  and  shipwrecked  (woman) — 

Seeing,  shall  take  heart  again?' 


« I  call  Evangeline  a  false  and  dangerous  ideal,  wandering  away 
a  lifetime  in  search  of  a  lover.  Suppose,  that  emulating  her  solit- 
ary crusade,  ^// women  and  maidens  should  follow  her  example  in 
making  footprints  on  the  sands  of  time!  The  scene  over  the 
United  States  would  remind  one,  in  multitude,  of  both  the  North- 
ern and  Southern  armies  let  loose  without  discipline  or  command. 
The  government  would  find  it  expedient  to  erect  a  line  of  lunatic 
asylums ;  not  along  the  lines,  for  there  would  be  none  ;  they  would 
dot  the  soil  from  Maine  to  California  !  "  ,         -, 

An  outburst  of  laughter  succeeded,  in  which  Corinne  heartily 
loined      All  dried  away  comic  tears  at  the  ludicrous  picture.         ^ 

"  Indeed,  Miss  Afra,"  said  Alfy,  still  laughing, "  you  have  lumin- 
cus  ideas.  This  outburst  is  hygienic ;  physically  as  well  as  mor- 
ally ;  quite  auxiliar  to  a  renewal  of  my  health." 

"Afra  is  a  copy  of  her  mother,"  said  Addie. 

"Thank  you,  Addie  ;  I  wish  no  higher  compliment.  I  think  it 
safer  to.  copy  my  mother,  than  the  delusions  of  Evangeline.  My 
mother  says  Evangeline  was  superstitiously  devotional  in  the  first 
place  •  and   when   Acadia  was  destroyed,  her  religious  emotions 


766  "  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

broke  bounds,  and  flooded  the  channels  of  her  love  nature;  and 
that  her  moon-struck  wanderings  were  the  effect  of  a  romantic  mix- 
ture of  both." 

Alfy  replied,  that  in  poesy,  *'the  imagination  is  allowed  to  soar 
into  heroic  and  dizzy  heights." 

"  I  call  that  a  great  mistake,"  replied  Afra.  "  A  mental  faculty 
which  is  so  apt  to  merge  into  impossibilities,  should  be  held  in 
leash  by  those  less  erratic.  How  much  n\ore  exalted  was  the  poet's 
mission  in  'The  Quadroon  Girl.'  That  poem  thrills  the  soul,  and 
makes  it  responsive  to  the  holiest  sympathies.  I  think  Evangeline 
a  dangerous  and  false  ideal.  Do  you  not  agree  with  me,  IMiss 
Corinne    .'* " 

Corinne  had  risen,  preparatory  to  leaving.  It  was  near  the  din- 
ner hour,  and  no  persuasion  could  induce  her  to  remain.  In  a 
voice  soft  and  mournful,  as  the  Angelus,  she  replied  to  Afra's 
question, — 

"  I  have  been  educated  to  such  false  and  dangerous  ideals,  that 
my  judgment  may  be  dazed  by  their  garish  light !  I  cannot  see 
truth  clearly.     Pardon  me." 

She  turned  to  Alfy,  who  had  arisen,  and  said  politely, — 

"  I  trust,  Mr.  Buddington,  that  your  gallop  through  our  quiet 
suburbs  and  forests  this  afternoon  will  be  pleasant  and  invigorating. 
Strangers  usually  find  our  woodlands  attractive." 

He  thanked  her ;  and  as  she  passed  out,  ^^  it  seemed  like  the  ceas- 
ing cf  exquisite  music y 

When  the  afternoon  grew  cooler,  Alfy  and  Issy  mounted,  and 
rode  away  out  of  the  city,  among  the  ragged  and  desolate  fields  \ 
they  clattered  over  the  broken  plank  road  to  the  green  shades  of 
the  woodland,  and  turned  their  horses  into  long,  dim,  grassy  paths, 
beneath  the  arching  trees,  walking  slowly,  side  by  side. 

Alfy  with  hat  in  hand,  exclaimed, — 

"  I  love  these  calm  and  quiet  shades.     There  is 

'  an  eloquent  voice  in  all. 
The  sylvan  pomp  of  woods,  the  golden  sun, 
The  flowers,  the  leaves,  the  river  on  its  way. 
Blue  skies,  and  silver  clouds. 

In  many  a  lazy  syllable  repeating 
Their  old  poetic  legends  to  the  wind.' " 


WHITE   I\IAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  767 

"  There  is  the  river  now,"  said   Issy.     "  See  that  steely  glinting 

through  the  trees  !  "  ,      •    i     i,  • 

They  reached  a  grassy,  sunny  glade,  dismounted,  tied  their 
horses,  and  threw  themselves  on  the  ground,  upon  the  bank  of  the 
gleaming  Cooper.  Let  us  not  invade  the  privacy  of  that  long  ab- 
sorbing communion  of  two  endeared  friends,  who  lie  amid  that 

"  sylvan  scene. 
Where, the  long  drooping  boughs  between, 
Shaclo\YS  dark,  and  sunlight  sheen 
Alternate  come  and  go." 

The  subject  must  have  been  of  deep  interest;  for  the  face  of 
Alfy  alternately  saddened,  or  grew  seraphic ;  it  paled,  or  bright- 
ened. Often  in  earnest  enunciation,  he  abstractedly  pulled  the 
green  blades  about  him,  and  cast  them  away  ;  then  silent  as  if  in 
a  dream,  or  beholding  a  vision,  he  lay  with  his  arms  under  his 
head,  ever  devotedly  watched  by  the  anxious  face  of  Issy,  reclining 
by  his  side.     The  final  words  were  uttered  by  him,  as  they  rose  to 

mount !  ,11 

"  Alfy,  I  am  not  surprised !     I  believe  I  have  not  exalted  your 

fondest  hopes  in  vain." 

The  horses  walked  again  through  the  delicious  shades  to  the 
main  road,  and  across  it   into   a  labyrinth  of  delight  towards  the 

Ashley. 

"  Hark  !  "  said  Alfy,  laying  his  hand  on  Issy  s  rein. 

A  powerful  voice  rose 'clear  as  a  silver  bugle,  in  the  distant  soli- 
tude, swelling  and  diminishing  Hke  the  flute  stop  of  an  organ. 
For  five  minutes  its  fascination  pierced  the  woodland ;  during 
which  time  neither  spoke.  ^^ 

•'  That  one  voice  was  worth  coming  to  South  Carolina  to  hear ! 
said  Alfy,  taking  his  hand  from  Issy's  rein. 

He  replied, — 

"  It  is  my  turn  at  poetry,  this  time ; "  and  in  his  own  rich  voice 
repeated  a  part  of  Longfellow's 

"  SLAVE   SINGING   AT  MIDNIGHT." 

•'  Loud  he  sang  the  song  of  David  ! 
He,  a  negro,  and  enslaved  ; 
Sang  of  Israel's  victory. 
Sang  of  Zion,  bright  and  free. 


768  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

*  m  *  *  * 

Sang  he  from  the  Hebrew  Psalmist, 
In  a  voice  so  sweet  and  clear, 
That  I  could  not  choose  but  hear 

Songs  of  triumph  and  ascriptions. 
Such  as  reached  the  swart  Egyptians 
AVhen  upon  the  Red  Sea  coast, 
Perished  Pharoah  and  his  host." 

"  Those  lines  are  a  fitting  echo  to  that  never-to-be-forgotten 
voice,"  said  Alfy.  "It  was  a  voice  of  freedom  !  doubtless  caroling 
the  wondrous  joy  that  burdens  his  liberated  spirit.  A  panorama 
of  moral  grandeur  surrounds. the  visitor  of  this  South  —  this  deso- 
late arena  of  men's  worst  passions  and  crimes." 

"  True,  Alfy,  it  lifts  the  pure  soul  to  a  sublime  faith  in  the 
sure  advance  of  Right,  that  shall  triumphantly  override  all  wrong. 
Shall  we  find  the  Ashley?     Let  us  make  the  endeavor." 

They  cantered  away  through  the  shadows  on  the  muffled  sod. 

Afra  left  Addie,  after  dinner.  Corinne  remained  in  her 
chamber. 

At  dusk,  a  friend  of  Mistress  Valmonte  called,  and  together 
they  went  out  to  an  evening  service  of  the  church.  Then  Addie 
stole  up  to  Corinne,  closed  the  door,  and  drew  a  chair  near  her, 
saying, — 

"  I  have  a  message  for  you  from  Mr.  Buddington.  He  begs  you 
to  grant  him  an  interview  this  evening." 

Corinne,  in  profound  agitation  drew  her  breath  quickly,  but 
made  no  reply. 

Addie  said  further, — 

"  Lawyer  Buddington  adores  you.  He  will  be  unhappy  till  he 
meets  you,  dear  Corinne.  You  are  his  first  and  only  love.  No 
other  attractions  have  moved  him,  although  they  have  fluttered 
about  as  thickly  as  swallows  in  summer.  I  am  sure  your  natural 
politeness  and  regard  for  others  will  not  allow  you  to  refuse  the 
request.  Issy  bade  me  tell  you  to  seek  your  own  happiness.  It  is 
a  duty  you  owe  yourself." 

Corinne  held  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes  with  trembling  fin- 
gers, and  said  weeping,  to  Addie, — 

"  Mamma !  oh,  Addie,  mamma  I  " 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  7^9 

"  Follow  the  promptings  of  your  own  noble  heart  in  the  matter, 
my  dear  girl ;  they  will  guide  you  safely.  Alfy  has  been  here 
three  weeks  now  j  you  know  his  antecedents.  He  is  no  adven- 
turer I  am  going  to  walk  with  Issy,  and  dear  old  father  is 
watching  my  children  in  bed.     They  are  his  pride.     Shall  you  go 

down  ? " 

"  I  shall  grant  Mr.  Buddington's  request.' 

Addie  poured  water  for  Corinne  to  bathe  her  burning  face, 
brushed  her  hair,  and  they  descended  together 

Corinne    entered  the  parlor  alone. 

At  the  door,  Alfy  took  her  hand  and  led  her  respectfully  to  a 
seat.  The  interview  could  not  be  prolonged,  and  on  the  part  of 
Alfy,  it  was  manly,  frank,  and  tender. 

We   will  not  intrude  upon   the  sacredness  of  that  swift-winged 

hour.  ,  ,    ^     .  1-1 

At  its  close,  the  trembling  lover  held  Corinne  to  his  heart, 
and   left  upon   her    fair,    pure    brow  his   first  kiss  — the   kiss  of 

bethrothal.  .  r        i  ^  c 

Mrs  Valmonte  made  many  complaints  after  her  return,  ot 
Corinne 's  abstraction  and  stupidity;  asserting  with  petulance  that 
she  did  not  hear  remarks  or  requests,  assigning  oversleep  during 
her  absence  as  the  cause.  •  tvt      t  •  i         a 

Alfy  met  the  liveliest  congratulations  from  Mary,  Mr.  Link  and 
Fanny  upon  his  improved  appearance. 

''You  must  ride  every  day,;'  said  Mrs.  Sterlingworth.  Your 
color  and  animation  are  returning." 

*'  We  had  an  invitation  to  Fort  Sumter  and  accepted.  VVe  are 
all  wearv  and  should  seek  an  early  hour  for  retiring,"  said  Mary. 

Alfy  followed  Mr.  Link  into  his  mother's  chamber,  and  there  re- 
vealed the  day's  events.  ,  u  j 

«  I  am  too  happy  to  sleep  now,"  he  said,  "  as  I  was  too  wretched 

before  " 

"  So  you  are  to  take  a  Southern  bride,  Alfy.  I  am  so  astounded 

that  I  can  scarcely  find  words  to  wish  you  joy,  said  Mary  ;      but  i 

am   sure   she  must  be  pure  and  lovely  or  she  could  not  be  your 

choice."  ,  1   4-u^4. 

"My  dear  mother,  I  am  confident  you  want  to  be  assured   that 

the  wishes  of  my  own  heart  are  gratified  —  you  would  wisn  my  mar- 


77^  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

riage  happy.  Madame  Lambelle  has  ever  been  my  standard  from 
boyhood.  Mv  dear  Corinne  is  Zaffiri's  counterpart.  You  will 
love  her  both  of  you,  not  only  for  my  sake,  but  for  her  own." 

"  Alfy,"  said  Mr.  Link  in  his  gentlest  voice,  "you  are  very  dear 
to  me.  I  shall  endeavor  to  further  all  your  desires  whenever  you 
choose  to  make  them  known.  The  one  you  love,  I  shall  love  ;  the 
one  you  honor,  I  will  honor.     I  rejoice  in  your  happiness." 

Mary,  recovering  herself,  kissed  his  pleading  face,  smoothed  his 
brown  hair,  saying, — 

"  Get  those  blue  eyes  bright  again,  my  proud  boy.  I  will  love 
dear  Corinne ;  I  love  her  already,  because  she  loves  you.  When 
will  you  bring  her  to  us  ?  " 

*'  To-morrow,  mother." 

Corinne,  who  slept  little  during  the  night,  did  not  confide  her 
happy  secret  to  her  mother  through  fear  of  maternal  displeasure. 
In  the  morning,  under  the  pretense  of  exercise,  she  made  an  early 
call  on  an  intimate  friend  of  her  mother,  who  had  returned  to  the 
city  and  occupied  apartments  alone.  Like  Evangeline,  this  woman 
had  learned  from  a  life  of  sorrow,  "patience  and  abnegation  of 
self,  and  devotion  to  others."  She  listened  to  Corinne*  s  confiden- 
tial explanation  of  her  fears  and  joys  with  the  calm  beneficence  of 
a  Sister  of  Mercy,  and  then  said, — 

"My  dear,  trembling  girl  have  no  more  dread.  You  are  doing 
right.  The  most  beautiful  thing  I  know  is  the  pure,  trusting  love 
of  the  human  heart.  I  am  going  to  soften  your  mother,  hard  and 
irreconcilable  as  she  is." 

"  Oh  !  I  love  mamma !  my  proud  mamma  !"  said  Corinne,  weep- 
ing. '•  I  could  do  anything  for  her ;  submit  to  all  her  caprices  — 
anything,  but  to  give  up  my  dear,  noble,  handsome  Alfred.  My 
love  for  him,  pure,  white,  and  celestial,  I  could  not  overcome  if  I 
would." 

"And  you  should  not,  if  you  could,  dear  girl.  When  and  where 
will  your  marriage  take  place  ?  " 

"The  day  he  and  his  parents  leave  Charleston.  I  do  not  know 
where  —  dear  Alfred  has  not  said.  He  has  a  difficult  case  to 
plead  in  Boston  the  first  week  in  July.  I  shall  pass  that  week 
there  ;  then  we  shall  pass  two  weeks  at  his  father's  in  Cioudspire, 
Massachusetts  ;  then  leave  for  a  six  months  tour  in  Europe." 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  77 1 

"  How  much  time  before  Mr.  Buddington  leaves  Charleston  ?" 

"  Twelve  days.  I  must  inform  mamma  this  morning.  I  do  not 
feel  that  I  have  strength  enough  to  withstand  the  grief  and  recrimi- 
nations." 

"Never  mind,  Corinne.  I  will  go  directly  to  your  mother's 
room.  Walk  a  little  and  compose  yourself.  I  will  be  present. 
Nowyou  must  have  all  your  time  to  go  out  and  come  in  at  your 
pleasure,  with  your  lover,  and  to  arrange  your  trousseau.  Theresa 
will  never  be  present  at  the  ceremony  wherever  it  may  be.  Do  not 
allow  that  to  trouble  you.  Time  will  change  all.  After  your  mar- 
riage, I  will  persuade  her  to  occupy  my  rooms  with  me.  I  think 
she  will  do  so  readily.  Is  that  any  relief  to  your  harrassed 
thoughts,  my  dear  lamb  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  I  cannot  express  how  much." 

"  You  are  not  going  to  continue  in  mourning,  of  course  ?  You 
have  worn  it  three  years  for  Ernestin  and  two  for  Doctor  Paisley. 
You  must  make  yourself  as  attractive  as  possible,  by  putting  on 
colors  from  your  marriage,  at  least." 

"  I  cannot  take  one  cent  from  mamma's  scant  funds." 

"Mr.  Buddington  and  his  friends  will  look  after  that.  I  know 
these  Northern  people  ;  they  are  not  hard ;  they  have  generous, 
feeling  hearts.  I  have  lived  much  among  them.  Trust  in  them, 
dear    Corinne;  your  faith  will  not  be  misplaced." 

'"What  a  strong  comforter  you  are!"  ejaculated  the  frightened 
girl,  at  the  same  time  kissing  her  friend's  sweet,  dispassionate  face. 

"  You  have  another  comforter  in  that  nice  little  body,  Issy's 
wife,"  said  the  lady  ;  "  she  will  help  you  through." 

She  left  the  room  a  moment,  and  returned  with  a  box  carefully 
secured,  which  she  placed  in  Corinne  *s  hands,  saying, — 

"  That  is  yours.     I  can  make  no  better  disposal  of  it." 

She  opened  it,  and  saw  within  an  elegant  parure  oi  costly  pearls. 

"  Examine  them  dearie ;  they  are  yours,  for  your  marriage.  I 
have  long  ago  bid  adieu  to  those  trifles.  They  will  suit  your  fair 
brow,  neck,  and  arms.  I  paid  two  thousand  dollars  for  them  in 
Paris  ;  you  know  their  value  ;  they  shonld  belong  to  a  daughter  of 
the  South.  No  ?  Offer  no  objections,  dearie.  I  have  money 
in  store  in  New  York,  where  I  had  the  wisdom  to  deposit  it  before 
this  mad  war,  which  I  knew  would  be  disastrous  to  the  South." 


772  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

The  twelve  days  passed  away  more  happily  to  Corinne  than  she 
could  have  imagined.  The  devotion  of  Mr.  Link  and  Mary  to  her- 
self and  Alfy  was  incomparably  soothing  to  her  tempest-tossed 
spirit.  There  was  unlimited  welcome  and  generosity  on  the  part 
of  the  Sterlingworths.  There  were  cheerful  teas,  dinners,  and 
moonlight  walks.  Corinne,  without  sliyness  or  restraint,  mani- 
fested her  deep  attachment  for  Alfred  ;  and  he,  proud  and  happy, 
could  scarcely  allow  her  to  depart  from  his  sight. 

Issy  insisted  upon  presenting  the  bridal  dress,  which  Corinne 
resolved  should  be  of  the  simplest,  unadotned,  white  muslin. 
Addie  presented  the  veil  and  orange  flotvers. 

Addie's  parlor  was  in  delightful  confusion,  between  the  dress- 
maker and  herself,  and  the  making  over  of  the  rich  dresses,  se- 
lected from  .the  buried  trunks.  A  dress-maker  and  seamstress 
worked  daily  in  Mary's  room,  at  Mr.  Sterlingworth's.  Afra  also, 
had  important  errands  bet\veen  the  two  families.  Corinne 's  fin- 
gers soon  regained  their  accustomed  celerity  on  the  piano,  and  al- 
ternately with  Afra,  the  house  was  charmed  with  the  perfection  of 
musical  taste  and  execution. 

Alfy  had  sent  two  polite  messages  to  Mistress  Valmonte,  express- 
ing his  desire  to  converse  with  her,  that  she  might  be  assured  of 
his  affectionata  regard  and  of  his  desire  to  alleviate  her  present 
burdens,  by  making  a  home  for  her  in  Boston  with  Corinne.  She 
read  and  threw  the  notes  into  the  flames,  with  indignant  scorn  ! 
She  washed  and  perfumed  her  hands  with  cologne,  to  remove  the 
Yankee  taint  of  the  notes,  disdaining  any  reply. 

A  singular  attachment  took  root  in  Corinne 's  heart  for  Mr. 
Link.  She  loved  his  mild,  unobtrusive  v;ays,  and  saw  beneath  the 
pleasant  exterior  a  true  and  knightly  gentleman.  She  called  Alfy 
her  "handsome  Cavalier,"  and  Afra,  her  "/^///^Abolitionist."  She 
made  Mary  her  confessor  and  counsellor,  taking  no  step  without 
her  consultation.     She  said  to  her, — 

"You  are  too  kind  to  show  a  preference;  but  can  you  love  me,  a 
Southerner,  when  I  am  Alfred's  wife  }  " 

"  How  can  I  help  loving  you  now,  my  darling  daughter,  in  your 
winning  character  of  peacemaker,  and  for  the  proud  love  you 
bear  my  noble  Alfy  ?  " 

She  begged  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sterlingworth  to  receive  her  mediator 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  773 

with  her  mother,  to  their  acquaintance,  and  went  to  her  mamma, 
while  her  friend  passed  an  afternoon  and  evening  with  Fanny  and 
Mary. 

One  important  arrangement  was  made  during  the  twelve  days, 
by  the  solicitations  of  Alfred  and  Corinne.  Afra  was  to  accom- 
pany them  to  Europe.      Corinne  said, — 

"  I  need  her  companionship  and  her  lucid  moral  teachings  ;  she 
is  a  guide  to  my  obliquity  of  vision.  Afra  will  help  me  to  distin-. 
guish  the  true  from  the  false." 

"  We  cannot  yield  to  that  reasoning,"  replied  Fanny.  "  On  the 
contrary,  I  should  be  most  happy  to  place  Afra  under  your  influ- 
ence, Corinne.  She  needs  travel  ;  and  if  you  will  not  allow  her 
to  be  an  obstacle  to  your  bridal  pleasures  I  shall  most  gladly  con- 
sent." 

The  auspicious  morning  dawned  with  a  benediction  on  the  day 
of  Alfy's  union  with  his  Southern  bride.  Fanny's  parlors  and  halls 
were  an  elysium  of  flowers  and  fragrance.  Afra^s  chamber  was 
made  the  secret  vestibule  of  Hymen,  to  which  Corinne  even,  was 
not  admitted  till  she  entered  with  her  former  dressing-maid,  who 
had  offered  her  services  for  the  occasion. 

When  Corinne  asked  for  her  plain  muslin  dress,  Afra  and  Addie 
uncovered  to  her  astonished  sight  a  rich  pearl-white  satin,  pur- 
chased and  made  in  New  York,  and  finished  with  costly  lace.  Be- 
side it  were  the  bridal  veil  from  Stewart's  and  orange  flowers  from 
the  North. 

"  Read  that  paper,  dear  Corinne,  on  the  dress,"  cried  Afra, 
dancing  about  the  room  in  a  delirium  of  delight. 

In  silent  surprise  she  took  up  the  slip,  and  read, — 

"  From  Uncle  Issy,  who  could  not  see  his  proud  Corinne  ar- 
rayed in  humiliating  cheapness  !  " 

Corinne  stepped  aside  from  the  glossy  splendor,  and  for  a  few 
moments  indulged  in  happy,  grateful  tears.  While  this  scene  was 
passing  in  Afra's  dressing-room,  Mr.  Link  found  time  to  say  to 
Fanny, — 

"  Is  it  not  strange  that  the  plain  old  *  drover '  should  have  such 
an  accomplished  son  and  daughter?" 

"  It  is  precisely  what  you  deserve,  Simon  Link.  They  are  your 
just  reward  for  the  consolation  you  gave  Richard  and  me,  in   that 


774  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Cloudspire  church  mob  ;  when  ymt,  of  all  the  town,  carried  us 
home  in  your  sleigh,  thus  bringing  upon  your  own  head  social  and 
religious  disaster.  When  that  town  beholds  Alfy  and  Corinne, 
its  scorn  and  meanness  will  change  to  envy,  and  servile  adula- 
tion !  " 

As  the  hour  approached,  the  parlors  filled  with  Northern  friends 
and  dashing  uniforms.  Henry  Hughes  had  offered  to  serve  the 
company  with  Abram,  but  Addie  said, — 

"  No,  my  poor  trampled  father,  you  will  never  serve  more  !  I 
shall  assist  at  waiting,  in  your  stead." 

So,  with  Issy,  he  took  his  honored  place  among  the  guests. 

When  Mr.  Link  entered  the  grand  saloon  with  the  elegant  Co- 
rinne on  his  arm,  followed  by  Alfred  with  Mary,  all  attended  by  a 
bright  uniformed  young  Northern  officer  and  Afra,  as  groomsrnan 
and  bridesmaid,  a  buzz  and  rustle  of  admiration  succeeded.  The 
clergyman  in  sacred  robes  awaited  them.  The  formula  of  mar- 
riage was  soon  spoken.  When  Alfy  placed  the  golden  seal  of  their 
covenant  upon  the  trembling  hand  of  his  best  beloved,  a  glittering 
tear  of  filial  sorrow  fell  upon  the  plain  circlet,  in  memory  of  the 
unhappy  and  obdurate  Theresa. 

Corinne  raised  her  eyes,  met  the  saintly  face  of  her  mediator, 
and  regained  composure. 

After  an  hour  of  congratulations,  feasting,  and  good  wishes, 
Corinne  prepared  to  take  her  mother's  farewell.  By  the  assistance 
of  her  dressing-maid,  she  was  soon  arrayed  in  a  rich  and  fashion- 
able traveling-suit,  sent  from  New  York  with  the  satin  toilet,  and 
the  compliments  of  Pearl  Z.  C.  Lambelle.  With  Alfy  by  her  side, 
yix.  John's  rebel  carriage  soon  conveyed  her  to  the  abode  of  Mis- 
tress Valmonte.  Alone  Corinne  ascended  to  her  mother's  cham- 
ber. At  the  close  of  the  interview  of  torturing  frigidity  on  the 
part  of  Theresa,  Corinne  advanced,  and  in  a  voice  choking  with 
affection,  said, — 

"  Kiss  me,  mamma." 

"  She  received  for  a  reply, — 

"  I  cannot  kiss  lips  yet  warm  with  the  kisses  of  Yankee  vul- 
garity." 

Coiuine  drew  off  her  glove,  and  extended  her  hand.  She  heard 
the  heartless  words, — 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  775 

"  Draw  on  your  gloves,  my  child,  before  I  take  the  hand  that  re- 
ceives the  •  pressure  of  love  and  friendship  from  a  Northern 
enemy  !  " 

Corinne    obeyed,  and  pressed  the  maternal  hand  in  a  long  and 

tearful  farewell. 

Captain  Thad  and  his  wild-rose  wife  from  the  "  Green  Valley," 
met  the  bridal  party  at  Madame  Lambelle's,  for  a  hasty  welcome, 
and  au  rezm'r,  on  his  brother's  departure  for  Boston.  He  afterwards 
escorted  his  parents  and  Afra  to  Cloudspire. 

May  left  a  few  days  previous  to  the  arrival,  for  Indiana,  with 
Papa  Dentelle,  to  attend  the  bedside  of  her  dying  Papa  Bloome.^ 

In  conformity  with  the  New  England  custom,  Mr.  Link'a  family 
rose  early.  On  the  second  nwrning  after  the  arrival  of  Alfy  and 
his  bride  from  Boston,  while  the  dew  sparkled  on  the  grass,  and 
the  roads  were  yet  damp  and  hard  from  the  night's  shower.  Mary, 
with  an  arm  about  Corinne,  drew  her  out  upon  the  piazza.  There, 
on  the  broad-graveled  walk,  stood  the  former  fugitive,  Robert 
Adams,   now   the  hired  help  of    Mr.  Link,  holding   two  saddled 

horses. 

One,  tiie  smaller,  was  a  pure  cream,  with  snow-white  mane  and 
tail,  handsomely  equipped  for  a  lady.  The  other  was  a  dark  chest- 
nut, equipped  for  a  gentleman's  pleasure.  He  was  rearing,  and 
champing  his  silver  bit,  with  proud  impatience.  Uncle  George  and 
Mr.  Link  and  Captain  Thad,  in  rustic  chairs,  were  sitting  calmly 
by.  Alfy  came  out ;  and  round  the  corner  of  the  house  peeped 
Robert's  wife  from  the  kitchen. 

"How  splendid  those  creatures  are  !  "  cried  Corinne,  running 
down  the  steps  to  fondle  the  "cream." 

"  Marse  Alfy,  how  you  like  dis  ?  "  said  Robert. 

Mr.  Link  and  Squire  Buddington  came  down  on  the  vyalk, 
where  the  ceremony  of  presentation  took  place,  of  the  "  Snow 
Bird"  to  Corinne,  by  Mr.  Link; and  the  "  General  Grant  "  to  Alfy, 
by  Uncle  George.  After  a  few  moments  spent  in  the  happiness  of 
giving  and  receiving.  Uncle  George  said, — • 

"  The  sun  is  getting  high ;  mount  and  explore  the  picturesque 
beauties  cf  Cloudspire.     Forget  law,  books,  and  sorrows." 

Mary,  observing  the  perplexed  hesitation  of  Alfy  and  Corinne, 
said, — 


776  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  Come,  my  daughter,  dress  yourself  for  riding." 

Before  she  could  make  a  proper  reply  they  were  in  her  chamber. 

"  There  is  your  riding-habil,  my  darling,"  said  Mar}^  "  It  was 
purchased  for  you  in  New  York,  where  Mr.  Link  procured  your 
pony.  This  is  my  gift.  Do  not  say  a  word.  You  have  made  my 
Alfy  happy.  You  have  rounded  his  pure  life  into  fullness  and  per-, 
fection.     What  shall  we   not  do  for  you  ?  " 

While  Corinne  was  adjusting  her  beaver  and  veil,  at  the  mirror, 
Mary  continued, — 

"  Do  not  fear  for  your  pony  ;  he  is  spirited,  but  docile.  He  has 
Arabian  blood.  Papa  Link  purchased  him  from  an  Englishman, 
about  to  return  with  his  family  to  London." 

Cloudspire  gossip  sprang  into  fresh  vigor  during  that  two  weeks. 
Culinary  processes  were  evidently  bewitched  by  "  Snow  Bird  "  and 
"  General  Grant."  The  bakings  came  out  from  the  over-heated 
stoves,  hooded  with  black  cowls.  Saucepans  boiled  over  and  sput- 
tered spitefully  to  thtmselves,  and  the  tidy  cream  pans  got  into 
slovenly  manners  —  all  for  the  daily  sight  of  four  pairs  of  gay, 
clattering  hoofs  and  a  flying  riding-habit  darting  swiftly  by. 

"I  declare,"  said  common  tattle,  with  envious  volubility,  "them 
abolitionists  have  more  Southerners  and  niggers  round  'em  than 
anybody  else  in  town.  There's  that  black  Robert,  and  his  wife  for 
a  cook,  at  the  Drovier's  ;  there's  Robert's  two  girls  over  to  '  Green 
Valley';  there's  Hester,  to  Squire  Buddington's,  and  Binah  and 
Roland,  to  the  doctor's.  Them  Beames  used  to  have  Henry 
Huglies'  girl.  Well,  I  wouldn't  eat  bread  and  pies  that  their  black 
hands  wet  up,  if  I  dropped  down  at  the  molding-board,  myself. 
They've  most  all  been  down  South;  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if 
George  Buddington  went  next." 

Afra,  meantime,  assisted  by  Filette's  two  daughters  and  Aunt 
Lucy,  was  ready  for  the  prospective  tour  abroad.  Cloudspire  was 
left  to  its  usual  quiescence;  its  front  blinds  were  closed,  itsfront 
curtains  lowered,  and  domestic  assiduity  reinstated. 

During  the  summer,  at  one  of  the  prayer-meetings,  a  strange  pro- 
gramme for  a  gathering  of  the  citizens  of  Cloudspire  was  read. 
This  gathering  was  to  be  addressed  by  an  escaped  prisoner  from 
Andersonville,  Georgia,  and  also  by  a  slave  from  the  South.  Pub- 
lic curio.sity  was  on  the  qui  vive  to  hear  the  stories  of  both.      A 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  777 

change  had  come  over  the  spirit  of  the  North.  The  new  church 
which  had  supplanted  the  one  of  William  Steele's  fame,  was  filled 
with  anxious  listeners.  The  old  slave  was  escorted  up  the  car- 
peted aisle  by  a  prominent  church  official,  and  seated  within  the 
railing  of  the  chancel,  by  the  side  of  the  United  States  soldier. 
Richard  Beame  was  in  one  of  the  slips,  reflecting  upon  the  change 
in  the  facial  expression  of  the  assembly.  He  observed  that  the 
former  ferocity  of  its  mobbing  expression  had  settled  into  some- 
thing like  sympathy  for  the  two  speakers  before  them.  The  soldier 
rose  first,  and  spoke  upon  the  rebel  prisons  South,  for  Northern 
men,  during  the  war. 

His  own  emaciated  form,  his  sunken  eyes,  the  staff  upon  which 
he  leaned,  and  the  hollow  voice,  were  swift  witnesses  of  the  tor- 
tures he  related.  He  told  of  thirty  thousand  men,  confined  in 
unhealthy,  unwholesome  quarters,  in  a  close  and  small  area  of 
ground,  inadequate  to  their  wants,  and  destructive  to  their  health. 
He  told  of  the  malicious  neglect  to  furnish  tents,  barracks,  or  other 
shelter,  sufficient  for  their  protection  from  the  inclemency  of  winter, 
and  the  dews  and  burning  sun  of  summer  ;  of  the  robbery  of  their 
clothing  and  blankets,  and  other  articles,  by  the  Confederates  j  of 
their  being  compelled  to  subsist  upon  unwholesome  water,  reeking 
with  the  filth  and  garbage  of  the  prison  and  prison-yard  ;  of  minds 
impaired,  and  intellects  broken  by  these  cruelties ;  of  the  bodies 
of  the  dead,  permitted  to  remain  among  the  emaciated,  sick,  and 
languishing  living,  until  these  bodies  became  corrupt  and  loath- 
some, and  filled  the  air  with  fetid  and  noxious  exhalations  !  He 
told  of  the  dead  /me,  to  which,  if  the  prisoners  approached  too  near 
by  accident,  or  necessity,  they  were  shot  down,  as  if  for  a  pastime  ! 
He  told  of  the  deaths  of  ten  men  in  Andersonville  prison^  from  the 
town  of  Cloudspire. 

"  I  was  chained,"  he  said,  "  in  a  gang,  for  a  week.  We  were 
chained  together  by  the  neck,  and  feet ;  each  wore  a  ball  weighing 
thirty-two  pounds.  One  of  your  townsmen  fell  dead  in  that  gang ! 
Lem  Hamm  attempted  to  escape,  but  he  was  tor7i  in  pieces  by  a 
bloodhound !  I  have  seen  men  hobbling  half  naked,  on  crutches, 
begging  for  bones.  I  have  seen  them  crawling  on  the  filthy  earth, 
carrying  their  tin  cups  in  their  mouths,  because  they  could  carry 
them  in  no  other  way  !    I  have   seen  them   die  so.     Mr.  Lappin's 


JjS  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

oldest  son  was  shot  by  the  guard,  vvhirt-  extending  one  arm  under 
the  dead  line  for  a  crumb  of  mouldy  bread.  His  youngest 
son  died  of  starvation,  and  reamputation  of  gangrened  wounds. 
At  one  time,  names  were  called  for  removal ;  and  orders  were 
given  the  rebel  guard  to  bayonet  any  Yankee  who  laid  down  in  the 
way !  Deacon  Steele's  grandson  was  one  of  the  number  to  be 
removed  to  another  prison.  This  fine  young  fellow  had  been  vac- 
cinated with  poisonous  matter,  and  was  covered  with  sores,  as  the 
result.  He  was  also  unable  to  walk,  from  sickness  and  starvation. 
lie  was  crawlmg  on  the  groimd  to  the  cars,  because  he  could  not 
stand  j  and  was  bayoneted  and  killed,  according  to  orders  !  " 

The  audience  in  the  church  was  in  tears.  Sobbing  interrupted 
the  speaker. 

At  length  one  man  rose  and  asked,  what  were  the  rations  ?  The 
reply  was, — 

''Two  ounces  of  meat,  one  small  potato,  and  a  half-cooked  piece 
of  corn-cake,  two  and  a-half  inches  square  !  I  have  seen  our  skel- 
eton men  digging  in  the  vermin  and  dirt  for  potato-skins,  and  other 
refuse,  to  eat.  Sometimes  our  coarse  meal,  ground  cob  and  all, 
was  given  us  raw ;  and  they  would  not-  allow  us  wood  to  cook  it, 
although  forests  were  near  at  hand." 

Another  questioner  arose  in  his  slip,  seeking  information  of  the 
deaths  of  Cloudspire's  remaining  victims  at  Andcrsonville. 

The  soldier  leaned  more  heavily  upon  his  stall,  and  in  a  voice 
more  husky,  replied, — 

"  My  friends,  I  do  not  deem  it  proper  to  make  further  revelations 
to  an  assembly  of  ladies,  youth  and  gentlemen.  The  horrible, 
blood-chilling  truth  cannot  be  further  refeted  here.  Already  your 
hearts  are  aching,  tears  are  flowing,  and  sobs  interrupt  me.  At 
private  calls  from  any  man  of  this  town,  I  will  use  my  remaming 
strength  in  detailing  cruelties  and  murderous  outrages  that  your 
hearts  never  dreamed  of. 

"  It  was  the  design  of  the  Confederacy  to  torture  and  destroy 
us.  Henry  Wirz,  our  Southern  keeper,  said  he  killed  more  Yan- 
kees than  the  rebel  army  that  served  at  the  front.  That  was  not 
enough.  General  Winder,  distinguished  for  greater  heartlessness, 
and  love  of  murder,  was  appointed  by  Jetf  Davis,  to  the  supervi- 
sion of  prisons.     He  said, — 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  779 

" '  Every  —  Yankee  sympathizer,  and  —  Yankee,  ought  to  sink 
into  — .' 

"  I  have  but  few  more  remarks  to  make.  We  of  the  North  have 
suffered,  and  died  nominally,  for  the  Uuion.  That  Union  is 
restored,  but  on  a  different  basis.  If  it  had  been  restored  intact, 
as  before  the  war,  I  should  prefer  Disunion.  I  am  a  member  of 
this  church,  and  according  to  its  doctrines,  the  Almighty  Ruler  of 
events,  that  God  of  wrath  and  punishments,  has  been  Commander- 
in-Chief  of  these  four  bloody  years.  He  has  led  your  sons,  fathers, 
and  brothers  to  death,  and  the  prison,  that  He  might  wrest  from 
this  Nation  the  Freedom  for  four  millions  of  slaves,  which  it  re- 
fused peacefully  to  yield.  If  He  has  been  an  avenging  God,  He 
maintains  that  character  still,  for  I  have  been  taught  in  this  house 
that  he  never  changes.  I  pray  you,  therefore,  guard  well  this 
jewel  of  Liberty,  so  dearly  purchased.  That  Jesus  who  healed  the 
blind,  has  anointed  your  eyes  with  the  clay  of  beloved  graves. 
The  clay  of  six  hundred  thousand  graves  should  be  enough  to 
restore  sight  to  the  whole  North.  I  beseech  you  to  use  this  sa- 
cred ointment  for  the  years  to  come.  Do  not  forget  your  dead,  or 
wholly  trust  the  South.  A  people  which  has  been  educated  to 
murder,  maiming,  and  every  form  of  barbarity  for  two  hundred 
years,  cannot  unlearn  crime  in  four  years.  Once  more  I  beseech 
you,  do  not  forget  the  graves  of  your  dead  ! 

"  I  give  way  to  another  Southern  sufferer,  sitting  in  this  chancel. 
In  listening  to  him,  you  cannot  relax  interest  or  sympathy,  for  the 
history  of  a  slave  is  often  the  parellel  of  mine,  as  affected  by 
Southern  barbarism." 

The  old  slave  rose  slowly,  and  bowing  to  the  people,  said, — 

"Ladies  and  gentleman  of  Cloudspire,  the  testimony^  which  I 
have  to  bear  to  you  to-night  may  be  offensive." 

Cries  of  "  No  !  no !  no  !  " 

"I  was  not  born  a  slave.  By  chance  I  was  thrown  into  the 
power  of  slave-holders,  and  was  sold  into  bondage.  I  lived  in  the 
North,  was  a  poor  and  honest  man,  free  from  crime  or  evil  habits. 
The  North  despised  color,  and  oppressed  all  her  colored  citizens, 
both  in  social  treatment  and  wages.  I  could  not  earn  enousrh  in 
the  town  where  my  little  hat  was  allowed,  to  support  my  wife 
and  children,  and  to  clothe  myself.     I  could  not  attend  church  in 


7  So  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

that  town  without  suffering  scorn  and  mockery.  I  could  not  seek 
the  salvation  of  my  soul  at  the  same  altar  with  the  whites,  in  a 
revival." 

Cries  of  "  Shame!  shame!" 

"  So  being  ragged,  hungry,  and  cast  out,  I  thought  to  escape 
from  the  snares  laid  for  our  feet;  and  in  so  doing,  I  fell  into  the 
snares  of  the  South.  I  have  been  a  slave  for  many  years.  I  have  . 
felt  the  black  whip  on  my  naked  flesh,  but  finally  I  fell  into  gentler 
hands.  I  have  seen  cruelties  and  horrors  that  would  wring  a  hu- 
mane heart.  1  was  freed  by  Sherman's  army  ;  and  since,  I  have 
found  my  little  children  grown  to  honorable  manhood  and  woman- 
hood, through  the  kind  watchfulness  of  friends  to  the  colored  race. 
They  are  called  abolitionists.  My  poor  wife  died  in  poverty,  and 
wretchedness." 

He  paused  —  wiped  his  eyes  and  asked  if  he  should  proceed  ? 

*'  Go  on,"  was  unanimous ;  and  a  request  was  made  for  the  name 
of  the  State  and  town  —  his  former  home. 

"  The  State  was  Maesachusetts,  and  the  name  of  the  town  was 
Cloudspire.     My  name  is  flenry  Hughes." 

Consternation  seized  the  audience.  Confusion  reigned.  He 
still  stood.  As  it  seemed  evident  that  old  June  had  further  commu- 
nication to  make,  a  hush  prevailed. 

"  My  wife,  Susan  Hughes,"  he  continued,  "  sleeps  in  a  neglected 
corner  of  your  old  cemetery.  I  have  come  to  drop  my  tears  over 
her  cruel  grave,  and  also  to  lay  bare  to  your  view,  my  friends,  a 
hidden  sin  which  this  church  still  fosters." 

Breathless  attention  followed. 

"  Doubtless  the  older  and  middle  aged,  remember  William 
Steele,  an  assistant  in  the  great  revival,  many  years  ago.  The  beau- 
tiful silver  baptismal  font,  overlooked  by  three  angels,  in  use  now, 
and  the  Steele  Bible,  which  I  now  see  on  the  sacred  desk,  are  the 
price  of  blood !  William  Steele  sold  his  own  child,  of  two  or  three 
years,  to  a  slave-trader  in  the  dark  hours  of  night,  in  South  Caro- 
lina, and  gave  her  guilty  price  to  the  Lord.  The  child's  name  was 
Lillian.  Deacon  Steele,  whose  white  locks  and  shaking  head  I  see 
before  me,  will  testify  to  the  truth  of  my  w^ords.  He  knows  that 
history  which  w^as  related  to  him  in  his  parlor  on  the  first  winter 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  78 1 

night  of  his  brother's  visit.  Be  calm,  my  friends,  a  few  moments 
and  I  will  not  embarrass  you  farther. 

"  Against  such  a  religion  I  hear  my  testimony.  The  worship  of 
our  Savior  does  not  require  such  bloody  sacrifice.  I  hereby,  on 
this  altar,  shake  off  the  dust  of  my  hunted  feet,  against  the  religion 
of  this  church,  and  bid  ^^om  farewell." 

While  uttering  the  last  words,  he  extended  both  hands  over  the 
congregation,  bowed,  and  passed  down  the  aisle. 

Richard  Beame  came  out  from  his  slip,  took  the  arm  of  Henry 
Hughes  in  his  own.     They  went  out  alone  under  the  starry  sky. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

AFTER  the  departure  of  Afra  with  Corinne,  Fanny  took  upon 
herself  the  burden  she  so  ardently  desired  to  assume  in  her 
girlhood's  prime  —  a  missionary  life. 

'•  Thanks  to  my  dear,  sainted  mother,"  she  said,  "  I  know  how  to 
fulfill  my  mission  now.  I  have  learned  the  sin  of  withholding  per- 
sonal sympathy  and  comfort,  and  the  crime  of  substituting  in  its 
merciful  stead  a  few  Sabbath  hours  in  teaching  this  crushed  people 
to  wait  for  fraternal  recognition,  till  they  shall  have  passed  beyond 
the  bounds  of  time." 

"  You  are  right,  Fanny,"  replied  her  husband.  "  These  freedj 
men  have  been  literally  crammed  with  this  hypocritical,  tyrannical 
religion, thoroughly  leavened  with  the  curse  of  Canaan.  The  equiv- 
alent for  the  cruelty,  scorn,  and  contempt  of  American  Christianity 
towards  the  African  race,  was  represented  by  the  churches  as  await- 
ing them  in  Heaven.  That  theory  left  earth  as  the  favored  arena 
of  the  worst  passions  of  men.  That  theory  still  exists.  This  city  is 
full  of  so  called  religious  guides  of  all  shades  of  creed  and  com- 
plexion, who  herd  these  still  distrusted  and  despised  ones  to  a  salu- 
tary fear  of  Hell,  which  act  is  considered  promotive  of  public 
safety,  and  to  an  exalted  hope  for  the  no-respecter-of-persons  equal- 
ity in  another  world,  which  act  renews  the  earthly  lease  of  con- 
tinued  and   oppressive  caste  of  color.     Go,  Fanny,  out  into  the 


782  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

highways  and  byways,  into  the  hovels  and  hungr}'  kitchens,  with 
your  heart  full  of  love  and  sympathy.  Follow  the  promptings  of 
your  untrammeled  conscience  and  the  example  of  our  Christ. 
Weep  with  those  whc  weep,  and  rejoice  with  those  who  rejoice.  As 
far  as  is  in  your  power,  feed  the  hungry  and  clothe  the  naked. 
Thus,  at  least,  will  your  rare  devotion  to  the  victims  of  oppression 
find  its  legitimate  expression." 

So  Mrs.  Sterlingworth  went  about  her  calling.  One  of  the  hand- 
some rooms  of  Chancellor  Mowndes  mansion  was  piled  with  chari- 
table stores,  which  had  drifted  into  her  hands  from  various 
Northern  sources.  She  set  about  their  distribution.  She  accosted 
the  old  maumas  and  aunties  in  the  streets,  ascertained  their  destitu- 
tion, and  visited  their  homes.  Her  name  was  repeated  to  others 
in  like  need,  and  many  of  her  hours  were  occupied  in  listening  to, 
and  serving  her  multiplied  calls. 

Fanny's  missionary  life  led  to  the  discovery  of  several  characters, 
which  will  elucidate  the  closing  histories  of  these  chapters.  One 
morning,  she  found  herself  following  an  infirm,  shuffling  woman 
leaning  upon  a  cane,  and  carrying  a  nearly  empty  basket.  Her 
dress  was  of  the  coarest  osnaburg;  the  color  used  in  dyeing,  had 
settled  in  darker  patches  over  the  lighter,  faded  slate  ground. 
Her  turban  was  of  the  same  material.  Fanny  stepped  to  her  side, 
with  a  pleasant  "  Good  morning,  auntie,"  and  asked  her  name. 

A  broken  voice  replied, — 

"  Cleo,  Missis." 

"  Have  you  no  other  name,  auntie  ?  " 

"  Cleopatra  Ashland,  missis." 

"  Vou  seem  to  be  suffering  from  weakness  ;  have  you  no  relatives 
to  care  for  you  ?  " 

"  No,  missis  ;  I  suffer  greatly  in  this  war.  Master  Ashland  went 
'way  four  years  ago,  and  I  never  see  him  since." 

"  Where  have  you  been  this  morning  ?  " 

"  To  the  market  to  beg  a  bone,  missis.  I  'bleeged  to  beg.  I 
have  no  money,  and  cannot  work  now.  I  was  not  raised  in 
Charleston." 

Fanny  accompanied  Cleo's  tottering  steps  to  a  kitchen  which 
chanced  to  be  located  near  her  own  residence,  entered  and  learned 
that  starvation  stood  at  the  door ;  learned  that  the  feeble  woman 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  783 

was  the  former  slave,  inmate  and  mistress  of  "  Nightingale  Hall." 
She  had  the  pleasure  of  daily  supplying  Cleo's  wants  from  her  own 
table,  of  supplyiog  strengthening  restoratives,  aud  finally  of  secur- 
ing a  free  passage  for  her  back  to  the  islands,  to  the  protection  of 
the  teachers  and  her  son  Dan. 

A  call  at  Fanny's  kitchen,  later  in  the  season,  may  be  of  interest. 
Obeying  the  summons  of  Abram,  she  found  awaiting  her  a  digni- 
fied, reticent  quadroon,  past  middle  age,  who  asked  for  clothing  to 
protect  her  from  the  increasing  cold.  At  a  glance,  Fanny  read 
that  the  inroads  of  grief,  as  well  as  hardship,  had  marred  the 
beauty  which  still  lingered  in  her  clear  black  eye  and  in  the  gray 
curl  that  strayed  from  under  her  worn  turban.  A  silent,  touching 
despair  marked  her  manner,  in  place  of  the  docile  humility  which 
distinguished  other  applicants.  She  seemed  reluctant  to  answer 
questions  except  those  concerning  her  immediate  wants. 

'*  Trus'  the  lady,  Charlotte,"  said  Fanny's  cook.  "  Missis  be  all 
our  frien' ;  tell  missis  all  ;  she  help  you." 

"Come  up  stairs,  Charlotte,"  said  Fanny;  "sit  down  with  me 
and  rest  you.     The  clothing  is  at  hand,  there." 

The  cook  made  an  impatient  motion  for  her  to  go,  which  she 

obeyed. 

"  Cook,  make  a  cup  of  strong  tea,"  said  Fanny,  "  and  send  it  up 
by  Abram  with  something  eatable." 

'Charlotte's  dress  was  the  faded  remnants  of  better  days  ;  from 
the  affliction  of  rheumatism,  she  leaned  upon  a  cane,  and  on  one 
foot  wore  a  large  ragged  moccasin.  She  took  the  velvet  arm-chair, 
by  Fanny's  solicitation,  and,  softened  by  her  unexpected  sympathy, 
unbosomed  the  sad  history  of  her  slave-life. 

This  was  Colonel  Haywood's  Charlotte.  Two  years  previously 
he  sold  her  in  Charleston.  She  was  put  into  the  kitchen  as  washer 
and  ironer,  and  was  compelled  to  do  heavy  tasks.  Accustomed  to 
indulgence  and  the  sheltered  life  of  lady's-maid,  she  sank  under  the 
severe  and  incessant  toil.  Her  hands  became  deformed,  painful 
and  nearly  useless.  Her  two  sons  — the  sons  of  Colonel  Haywood 
—  were  taken  early  into  the  war  and  had  never  returned.  Her 
daughter,  fairer  than  herself,  was  sold  away  to  Texas  in  her  attract- 
ive girlhood. 

While  relating  this,  the  proud,  despairing  eyes  melted  to  tears. 


784  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Sterli no: worth  !  *'  she  cried,  "  I  am  a  woman  like  you. 
I  suffer  like  any  other.  I  have  a  heart  and  affections  like  Gracie 
Mowndes.  This  South  is  filled  with  just  such  wrecks  as  I  am. 
Can  this  war  atone  for  the  colored  woman's  wrongs  ?  With  free- 
dom will  she  receive  justice  and  respect.''  " 

"  The  blood  shed  by  the  North  and  South  should  expiate  much, 
my  poor  Charlotte  ;  but  wo7jian^  of  any  color,  will  be  the  last  to  be 
benefitted  by  society  or  statutes.  My  heart  bleeds  for  you,  and  the 
multitudes  who  have  suffered  like  you." 

Abram  entered  with  the  tea  and  a  relishing  lunch.  Fanny  set 
a  small  table  by  Charlotte,  and  poured  her  tea  with  the  kindness  of 
a  sister.  The  rigid  coldness  of  the  stricken  woman  relaxed,  and 
once  more  her  manner  warmed  towards  a  white  face. 

Fanny  visited  Charlotte's  room  often,  supplying  her  hearth  with 
wood  and  her  table  with  comforts.  Later  in  winter,  the  owners  of 
the  house  returning,  warned  her  to  leave  the  chamber.  By  the 
kindness  of  Northern  friends,  an  "  Old  Folk's  Home  "  had  been 
established,  and  was  supplied  by  the  government.  Charlotte  had 
no  other  refuge.  Fanny  saw  the  broken-hearted  wriiig  her  hands 
as  she  took  a  last  look  around  upon  her  furniture,  endeared  by  long 
possession. 

"  I  have  given  it  all  to  a  dear,  destitute  woman,  who  has  helped 
when  others  passed  me  by,"  she  said  ;  and  groaning  deeply,  she 
turned  away  to  the  cart  standing  at  the  gate. 

At  the  "  Home,"  a  darker  feeling  of  desolation  in  the  winter 
days  hovered  over  Charlotte.  Death  soon  cast  oblivion  over  her 
earthly  sorrows. 

Fanny  retained  a  bright  memory  of  Leonore  Wallace,  and  often 
questioned  herself  on  the  probability  of  learning  the  sequel  of  her 
brilliant  and  happy  lot.  On  a  pleasant  afternoon  of  the  subsequent 
summer,  Abram  summoned  her  to  the  parlor  at  the  request  of  a 
''  wiiite  lady,"  as  he  said,  laughing. 

The  stranger  was  dressed  in  the  extreme  of  plainness,  approach- 
ing Quakerism,  so  thought  Fanny. 

"  Mrs.  Sterlingworth,"  said  she,  smiling,  "  I  have  called  to  ask  a 
favor.  I  hear  that  you  are  very  benevolent  and  are  never  dis- 
pleased at  applications  for  aid." 

"  I  shall  be  most  happy  to  do    anything   in   my  power,"   replied 


WHITE    MAY,   ANt?    BLACK   JUNE.  785 

Fanny,  with  politeness,  won  directly  by  the  lady's  pleasing  address. 

"  It  is  a  strange  request,  but  I  might  as  well  make  it,  for  I  so 
much  object  to  applying  to  gentlemen.  I  have  an  invalid  servant 
who  has  grown  old  in  my  service.  '  Toad  '  has  endeared  herself  to 
me,  and  as  poor  as  I  am,  Mrs.  Sterlingworth,  I  cannot  cast  her  off. 
If  I  should,  she  would  die  of  that  even.  I  do  not  think  she  can 
survive  ;  and  in  case  she  dies,  can  you,  through  your  influence  at 
the  '  Bureau,'  procure  a  cart  for  her  burial  ?  I  declare,  we  are  all 
so  reduced  by  our  losses  in  the  war,  that  I  am  forced  to  make  this 
appeal.  I  came  to  you,  for  I  understand  Nofthern  generosity.  I 
passed  many  happy  seasons  North,  in  girlhood." 

"  I  am  glad  to  find  that  a  few  Charlestonians  trust  us,"  said 
Fanny,  smiling.  '*  Since  the  South  is  opened  to  Northerners  of  all 
opinions,  it  is  quite  natural  that  we,  who  have  heretofore  been  con- 
fined within  the  limit  of  winter  snows,  should  seek  this  delightful 
.  climate,  and  if  possible  engage  in  business  like  any  one." 

"  You  may  be  assured  that  in  my  heart  uf  hearts  I  welcome  you 
to  this  sunny  clime.  We  Southerners  seek  your  cool,  invigorating 
summers  ;  the  exchange  should  be  cordially  reciprocated  on  our 
part." 

She  then  entered  into  agreeable  reminiscences  of  her  last  visit 
North,  at  West  Elms,  reverting  to  her  pony  "  Marmion,"  her  fall  in 
ascending  the  hill  at  East  Elms,  and  the  polite  rescue  from  her 
disgrace.     In  the  course  of  the  narration  she  laughed  heartily. 

"  My  '  West  Elms  ^  friends,  removed  to  Texas  afterwards,"  she 
added,  "  and  I  have  never  heard  from  those  acquaintances,  since." 

Fanny  found  to  her  unbounded  surprise  that  this  plain,  frank, 
and  jovial  lady  was  no  other  than  her  lovely,  interesting,  and  mag- 
nanimous Leonore,  whose  queenly  image  of  youthful  beauty  and 
grace  she  had  preserved  fresh  in  memory,  to  that  moment.  But 
for  cogent  reasons  that  ran  rapidly  through  her  mind,  she  resolved 
to  preserve  her  incognito. 

Conversation  turned  upon  losses  by  the  war. 

"  Why,  Mrs.  Sterlingworth,"  said  Leonore,  "  I  came  down  to 
Charleston  fully  assured  that  I  had  sixty  thousand  dollars  in  the 
bank,  here ;  but  there  is  not  one  penny !  I  am  reduced  to  the 
absolute  necessity  of  sewing  for  a  subsistence.  Our  Charleston 
ladies  have  established  a  sort  of  labor-office  for  the  destitute  ;  they 


786  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

eno^age  embroidery  and  plain  sewing  from  the  families  of  those 
who  have  been  more  fortunate,  and  from  those  who  have  been  able 
to  resume  business ;  they  distribute  this  industry  among  the  rest  of 
us.  Dear  me,  I  sew  days  !  at  night  I  am  obliged  to  hold  this  fin- 
ger so  pricked  by  the  needle  point,  in  a  cup  of  cold  water,  to  reduce 
the  inflamation  ! " 

She  laughed  heartily  over  her  own  calamities,  and  Fanny  was 
forced  to  join. 

"What  would  my  mother  say,  if  living?"  ejaculated  Leonore, 
"to  see  my  swollen 'fingers .?  Mamma  was  a  proud  woman.  She 
used  to  reprimand  me  after  my  return  from  a  Northern  visit,  for 
setting  a  chair  in  its  place.     She  would  say, — 

"  '  Have  we  not  servants  enough  to  do  that.^  I  am  mortified  by 
my  daughter's  vulgar  habits.'  " 

She  burst  into  uncontrollable  merriment  asfain  ;  then  said, — 

"We've  no  servants  now.     I  have  only  'Toad;'  and  most  of  the 

time  I  am  caring  for  her  ills.     I  build  my  own  fire  ;  but  I  cannot 

blow  it  up  to  a  blaze,  for  I've  no  teeth  and  cannot  afford  a  false  set." 

Here  she  made   a  comical  representation   of  blowing  the   fire, 

saying  with  laughter, — 

"  I  attempt  to  blow  this  way,  and  my  breath  goes  that  way  ! 
Well,  I  might  as  well  laugh  as  to  cry !  " 

"  Much  better,"  replied  Fanny,  careful  not  to  ulter  a  word  that 
might  wound  the  heroic  philosopher.  "  I  suppose  the  times  will 
regain  their  former  prosperttv,  after  the  fluctuations  of  our  civil 
strife." 

'•  Some  things  cannot  be  restored,  Mrs.  Sterlingworth.  My 
father's  house  was  situated  in  the  burnt  district.  Every  endeared 
reminder  of  my  childhood's  home  (and  my  local  attachments  are 
very  strong)  is  obliterated.  My  second  marriage  secured  me  a 
lovely  home  in  a  distant  part  of  the  State.  That  has  been  reduced 
to  a  ruinous  condition." 

"By  the  Northern  army  ?  "  inquired  Fanny. 

"  I  frankly  say,  no  !  It  was  pillaged  by  our  own  guerillas;  prob- 
ably for  the  reason  that  our  Union  proclivities  were  well  under 
stood.  I  am  living  at  present  in  a  shabby  little  house,  quite  out 
of  the  busy  centre  of  Charleston  —  a  remnant  of  my  parental 
dower." 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  787 

The  interview  was  pleasant  to  both.  When  Leonore  took  her 
leave,  after  asking  a  second  assurance  of  Fanny's  aid  in  securing 
the  cart  for  '  Toad's '  burial,  she  cordially  invited  her  to  call,  and 
continue  their  acquaintance. 

In  October,  in  the  midst  of  Fanny's  benevolent  offices  the  North- 
ern mail  brought  a  letter  to  her,  bearing  a  black  seal.  With  a 
feeling  of  dread  she  broke  it  hastily,  and  read, — 

"  Ciotidspire,  Mass.,  October — ,  1865. 
"My  dear  Sister  Fanny,— My  pen  almost  refuses  to  record  the  painful 
event  of  the  past  week.     Our  family  has  been  plunged  into  a  sudden  and  irrepa- 
rable grief.     My  dear,  blessed  father  has  left  us  forever.     Without   a  warning  — 
without  a  farewell,  he  has  joined  the  throng  of  the  glorified. 

"His  last  conversation  with  us,  was  concerning  Alfy  and  his  Southern  bride. 
His  manner  was  cheerful  as  usual,  and  he  went  out  about  the  grounds.  The 
dinner  hour  drew  near ;  I  went  out  on  the  lawn  to  call  him,  where  I  had  seen 
him  i^ass  but  an  honr  before.  I  did  not  find  him,  and  went  into  the  ofiice.  He 
was  sitting  in  his  large  rocker,  with  his  feet  thrown  upon  the  lounge.  His  ban- 
dana lay  across  his  knees,  as  was  his  custom.  I  spoke  to  him,  but  received  no 
reply  and  saw  no  movement.  I  thought  him  asleep,  and  approached.  Fanny, 
my  dear  father  was  dead  !  His  features  were  as  placid  and  sweet  as  in  his 
healthful  sleep.  He  seemed  to  have  stepped  from  this  world  to  the  next,  without 
a  moment  of  agony  or  a  sigh. 

"  The  funeral  was  strictly  private,  attended  only  by  our  dearest  friends.  In 
answer  to  a  dispatch  to  New  York,  Claude,  Pearl,  Mrs.  Channaire,  and  Mary 
came  on.  The  Buddingtons,  Links,  Robert  Adams,  and  the  friends  from  the 
'Green  Valley'  were  present;  also  Doctor  Paisley,  Addie,  and  Plenry  Hughes, 
who  were  visiting  us  at  the  time.  Claude  and  Zaffiri  brought  the  richest  profu- 
sion of  rare  flowers  from  New  York.  March  presented  also  a  large  floral  cross, 
and  laid  it  reverently  upon  the  coffin  with  his  own  hands.  Dear  father  was  lit- 
erally buried  in  flowers. 

"No  clergyman  was  present.  Richard  offered  prayer.  George  Buddington 
reviewed  my  father's  ripe  and  useful  life.  Madame  Lambelle  read  in  her  silvery 
voice,  Longfellow's  *  Psalm  of  Life.'  Squire  Buddington,  Mr.  Link,  Doctor 
Paisley,  and  Roland  bore  his  coffin  to  the  cemetery,  followed  by  us  all. 

"  Dear  Fanny,  can  we  not  all  say  that  Doctor  Clarendon's  work  was  done, 
and  well  done  ?  None  can  enter  Heaven  wearing  a  purer,  whiter  robe  than  my 
dear,  just,  beneficent  and  affectionate  father  ! 

"Sister  Lucy." 

In  1867,  on  a  bright  morning  in  November,  Fanny  and  Afra 
seated  themselves  in    the  cars  with  Richard,  on  a  visit  to  a  rice 


7^8  WHITE   MAY,    AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

plantation.  At  the  end  of  the  railroad  conveyance,  they  took  a 
buggy  awaiting  them,  and  were  soon  lost  in  piny  woods,  amid  the 
hum  of  insects,  spicy  breezes,  and  the  songs  of  birds. 

"This  reminds  me  of  our  island  home,"  said  Afra.  "How 
quiet !  An  actual  sabbath  reigns  in  these  solitudes.  If  we  were 
mounted  on  '  Cotion  Ball '  and  '  Chinquapin  ,'  it  would  be  a  pleasure 
to  explore  these  grassy  paths." 

"  Richard,"  asked  Fanny,  "do  you  not  find  these  plantation  soli- 
tudes charming  ?  " 

"  Enchanting  !  We  passed  a  plensant  summer  in  the  pines,  and 
have  not  long  since  returned  to  the  house.  We  are  all  settled  now, 
however,  and  ready  for  your  long  deferred  visit." 

The  slow  mule  brought  them  to  the  avenue  gate  in  good  time 
for  dinner.  On  the  shady  road  to  the  house,  the  whole  family  met 
them  with  noisy  welcome  ;  Lucy,  Filette,  Squire  Buddington,  Ro- 
land, Hester  and  Henry  Hughes. 

"  Who  could  have  imagined,  ten  years  ago,  that  radicals  and 
fanatics  would  be  found  running  South  Carolina  rice  plantations  ? " 
exclaimed  Fanny. 

"We  are  no  longer  fanatics,"  replied  Squire  Buddington. 
"  Since  the  amendments  to  the  Constitution,  we  are  considered 
harmless,  loyal  citizens." 

"  Or,  by  reversion,  the  whole  Nation,  or  at  least  the  ruling  ma- 
jority have  become  fanatics,  and  we  are  considered  no  longer  dan- 
gerous ! "  added  Richard. 

Fanny  walked  up  to  the  house  between  Roland  and  Lucy. 

"  Ah  !  my  Carolina  planter!  "  she  said  to  Roland,  there  is  some 
difference  between  this  and  your  shabby  little  cabin  by  the  river  in 
Alderbank.  How  do  your  crops  turn  out.?  How  many  thousands 
shall  you  pocket  this  year  ? " 

"  Several,  I  trust,  Mrs.  Fanny." 

"  Is  it  generally  known  that  you  are  the  proprietor  ?" 

"  By  no  means,"  answered  Lucy  for  him.  "  Uncle  Richard  takes 
the  initiative  in  all  business  matters  ;  but  Roland  will  have  all  the 
profits.  This  plan  secures  to  us  a  lesidence  of  a  few  years  South, 
and  furnishes  capital  to  our  nephew  Roland,  for  a  successful  life. 
We  are  quite  proud  of  him.     Besides,  the  study  of  medicine  which 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE.  789 

he  pursued  under  my  dear  old  father,  makes  him  so  useful  among 
these  destitute  freedmen  ;  and  they  are  so  proud  of  his  profes- 
sional services.  I  really  believe  they  conjure  up  all  manner  of 
sickness,  in  order  to  be  attended  by  Doctor  Roland  Steele,  of  their 
own  color."  • 

"I  ought  to  prosper,"  sdd  Roland,  "under  such  a  self-denying 
guardian  as  Aunt  Lucy.     Do  you  not  think  so,  Mrs.  Fanny?  " 

George  Buddington  and  Richard  Beame  had  hired  plantations 
as  far  back  as  the  winter  of  1866.  The  squire  hired  one  adjoining 
Roland's;  and  as  its  buildings  had  been  burned,  and  Roland's 
house  had  ample  accommodations  for  both  families,  they  took  up 
their  abode  together. 

Unacquainted  with  rice'  culture,  they  hired  an  experienced  over- 
seer the  first  year,  but  took  charge  themselves,  the  second.  It 
came  out  after,  that  the  squire  had  leased  the  property  of  Theresa 
Valmonte,  affording  her  a  generous  annual  income.  Through  the 
efforts  of  Mr.  Sterlingworth  and  Doctor  Paisley,  her  city  house  had 
been  restored,  and  she  now  occupied  her  lonely  house  with  Co- 
rinne's  mediator,  in  comparative  ease  and  comfort. 

Fanny  had  a  true  antiquarian  taste  for  old  and  half-forgot- 
ten local  and  family  histories.  When  these  were  learned,  she  was 
accustomed  to  people  old  houses  in  her  reveries  with  the  spectral 
forms  of  their  former  inmates,  trace  their  ancient  habits  and  ideas, 
and  thus  by  comparison  with  the  present,  measure  the  progress  of 

ideas. 

She  asked  Lucy  during  her  visit,  who  were  the  original  owners 

of  the  estate  ? 

"  Thereby  hangs  a  tale,"  replied  Lucy. 

"  *  All  houses  wherein  men  have  lived  and  died 

Are  haunted  houses.     Through  the  open  doors, 
The  harmless  phantoms  on  their  errands  glide 

With  feet  that  make  no  sound  upon  the  floors. 
We  meet  them  at  the  door-way,  on  the  stair, 

Along  the  passages  they  come  and  go  — 
Impalpable  impressions  on  the  air, 

A  sense  of  something  moving  to  and  fro.* 

"  This  time-battered  house,  Fanny,  is  haunted  by  the  old  story  of 


79°  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

woman's  wrongs,  though  showing  a  more  cruel  phase  than  is  often 
known  in  enlightened  communities.  Two  ladies  once  dwelt  here 
in  days  agone.     They  were  daily  seen, — 

'Under  the  lustrous  leaves  and  through  the  sheen 
Of  dewy  sunshine  showering  down  bet^veen. 
The  one  (the  mother)  had  the  attractive  grace 
Which  sorrow  Sometimes  lends  a  woman's  face  ; 
Her  dark  eyes  moistened  with  the  mists  that  roll 
From  the  gulf-stream  of  passion  in  the  soul ! 
7"he  other,  with  her  hood  thrown  back,  her  hair 
Making  a  golden  glory  on  the  air, 
Her  cheeks  suffused  with  an  auroral  blush, 
Her  young  heart  singing  louder  than  the  thrush.' 

"Now,  I  will  answer  your  question  Fanny.  The  original  owner 
of  this  place  was  Major  Measures.  He  was  a  gay  sportsman  ;  and 
these  woods,  for  miles  in  extent,  have  echoed  to  the  horns  of  many 
a  hunting-clan.  That  large,  broken  circle  of  hitching-posts  around 
the  live-oak  was  for  the  convenience  of  his  boon  companions." 

"  He  never  married,  but  he  brought  here  to  '  St.  Cloud,'  a  lovely 
young  Northern  girl  ;  won  the  love  of  her  trusting  innocent  heart, 
and  made  her  his  illegal  wife.  One  fair  child,  a  daughter,  was 
born  from  this  union.  As  the  years  went  on,  he  grew  jealous  of 
the  mother,  and  in  a  paroxysm  of  rage,  the  fiend  called  in  slaves, 
bound  her,  and  branded  his  name  into  her  tender,  shrinking  flesh 
with  a  brutal  red  hot  branding-iron  ;  intimating  that  she  was  his 
p?vperty,  with  his  colored  chattels." 

"  He  drove  her  from  '  St.  Cloud '  afterwards,  on  a  small  annual 
stipend.  She  died  in  a  distant  part  of  the  State.  He  took  her 
daughter  from  her,  sending  her  to  France  to  be  educated." 

Fanny  was  thinking  how  hard  for  herself  would  be  a  final  separ- 
ation from  her  husband  and  xAira ;  her  face  was  wet  v/ith  tears. 

"Dear  Fanny,"  continued  Lucy,  "that  humiliated  and  abused 
woman  was  Hattie  Hudson,  of  whom  we  have  so  often  spoken. 
There  are  old  slaves  on  this  plantation  who  remember  her  well. 
But  listen ! 

"  *  Though  the  mills  of  God  grind  slowly, 
Yet  they  grind  exceeding  small ; 
Though  with  patience  he  stand  waiting, 
With  exactness  grinds  He  all.'  " 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  79 1 

"  Who  holds  this  plantation  now?  Roland  Steele;  of  illegiti- 
mate birth,  like  Major  Measures'  daughter.  Roland  Steele  —  a 
Northern  colored  planter  !  " 

"  That  reminds  me  of  information  I  have  for  you,  Lucy.  See 
how  God's  mills  grind,  in  Charleston  !  The  Misses  Fairland,  those 
arrogant  daughters  of  the  South,  are  reduced  to  the  deepest  pov- 
erty. The  father  and  mother  are  dead.  They  live  in  one  room, 
for  which  they  pay  only  a  nominal  rent.  Prepare  for  surprise, 
Lucy  !  The  Misses  Fairland  earn  their  bread  by  making  orange 
marmalade,  canning  it,  and  selling  it  to  any  customers  chance 
may  offer !  " 

Lucy  raised  her  hands,  and  uttered  aery  of  "No!  I  cannot 
credit  you  !  " 

"Dorcas  —  your  old  Dorcas,  told  me  herself.  I  found  her  out 
accidentally,  and  she  related  their  condition  with  extravagant  ges- 
tures of  pleasure.  You  should  have  heard  her,  thus.  '  Oh  !  Mrs. 
Sterlingworth  !  she  cried,  '  I  am  too  glad  !  Just  so,  I  poor  slave 
set  up  nights,  and  make  marmalade  when  dey  all  sleep.  I  see  'em 
bilin\  bilin\  biiin'  ;  si?n?ner,  simmer^  sim?ner ;  skim,  skim  /  I  see  high 
head  come  down  !  come  down  !  Missis,  I  see  dem  put  marmalade 
in  cans,  jest  like  me,  Dorcas,  and  send  it  off  to  ladies  in  Baltimore. 
Do,  I  beg,  let  Miss  Lucy  know.  Tell  her  dey  be  old  and  gray, 
and  seldom  go  out.     Dey  be  shame  ! '  " 

"Dorcas  is  right,"  exclaimed  Lucy.  "These  girls  have  ever 
scorned  labor  ;  and  it  is  no  worse  for  them  to  earn  an  honest 
living,  than  for  others.  They  have  fattened,  heretofore,  on  stolen 
wages.  I  must  see  that  dear  Dorcas,  who  was  my  only  trusty  friend 
at  '  Le  Grand  Palais.'  Did  Dorcas  succeed  in  buying  her  freedom, 
Fanny  ? " 

"  She  paid  all  but  two  hundred  dollars  ;  was  not  able  to  earn  the 
remainder,  and  was  finally  freed  by  the  Emancipation  Proclama- 
tion." 

At  '  St.  Cloud,'  Hester  was  in  her  culinary  glory,  furnishing  the 
table  with  delightful  Northern  dishes — declaring  daily,  she  could 
never  learn  to  live  on  "  bacon  and  hominy." 

Henry  Hughes  was  supported  in  the  "Union  League"  by  Richard 
in  his  own  stead,  as  a  delegate  to  the  Constitutional  Convention. 

The   freedmen  on  the   plantations  had  an  unswerving  trust  in 


792  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

Squire  Buddington  and  Marse  Beame,  as  they  persisted  in  calling 
him  ;  but  these  gentlemen  waived  all  claims  in  favor  of  others. 
Both  desired  Henry  to  fill  that  position  of  Constitution  maker,  and 
they  held  him  in  the  district  for  that  purpose. 

Fanny  went  to  the  plantations  for  the  purpose  of  witnessing  the 
first  exercise  of  political  power,  in  South  Carolina,  recently  con- 
ferred upon  the  former  slaves  —  the  first  triumph  of  colored  man- 
hood suffrage  through  the  ballot.  The  nineteenth  and  twentieth  of 
November  were  golden  days  in  that  State  calendar,  as  well  as  in 
the  harmonious  and  indulgent  calendar  of  Nature  herself. 

An  enthusiastic  party  gathered  round  the  breakfast-table,  in  the 
sun-illumined  dining-room  of  St.  Cloud.' 

"  The  spirit  of  Calhoun  should  be  present  in  his  beloved  and 
misguided  Carolina,  to-day!"  said  Squire  Buddington,  "to  witness 
this  tidal  wave  of  progress,  which,  like  King  Canute,  he  vainly 
strove  to  roll  backwards  !  " 

"Ah!  if  we  only  had  a  'Witch  of  Endor'  to  bring  him  up!" 
laughed  Afra.  "  Mrs.  Buddington,  what  do  you  think  the  old  man, 
covered  with  a  mantle,  would  say  to  his  former  constituents  ?  " 

"  What  will  you  not  imagine  next,  Afra  ?" 

"  Well,  I  think  he  has  been  converted  by  this  time,  and  would 
say  to  Secessionists,  like  Samuel,  '  The  Lord  hath  rent  the  king- 
dom out  of  thine  hand,  and  given  it  to  thy  neighbor  —  even  to 
David.'  '• 

Squire  Buddington,  standing  at  the  head  of  the  family  board, 
held  in  his  hand  an  empty  wooden  box,  in  size  nine  inches  by 
twelve.  It  was  the  first  ballot-box  for  the  reception  of  the  new 
suffrages,  and  had  been  prepared  from  a  Northern  starch  box.  He 
said, — 

"  I  present  to  your  view,  one  of  the  corner-stones  which  v;ill 
support  the  new  Constitution  of  this  State,  which  is  about  to  estab- 
lish justice,  ensure  tranquility,  provide  for  mutual  defence,  promote 
the  common  welfare,  and  secure  to  its  posterity  the  blessings  of 
Liberty.  According  to  programme,  I  now  place  it  upon  its  honored 
pedestal,  before  our  hero  of  the  day  j  the  freeman,  slave,  and 
freedman,  Henry  Hughes  !  " 

He  proceeded  to  deposit  it  upon  a  high  evergreen  support  in  the 


HENRY   HUGHES   FREES   HIS  MIND. 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  793 

centre  of  the  table,  placing  a  laurel  wreath,  woven  by  the  young 
ladies,  upon  its  closed  slide. 

Three  cheers  greeted  this  act,  which  were  followed  by  demands 
for  the  orator  of  the  occasion. 

Henry  Hughes  arose  from  his  central  seat,  and  bowing  deeply 
to  Richard  and  the  others,  said, — 

"  My  friends,  with  much  humility  I  receive  these  tokens  of  your 
loving  kindness  towards  myself.  As  a  humble  candidate  for  polit- 
ical honors  in  the  Constitutional  Convention,  and  in  behalf  of  my 
fellow-suiferers  from  American  oppression,  I  would  say,  that  in  all 
these  proceedings  I  behold  the  hand  of  God.  Unworthy  as  we 
all  may  be,  through  ignorance  and  inexperience,  to  take  upon  our- 
selves the  duty  of  making  laws  for  a  State,  this  unworthiness  has 
been  thrust  upon  us  by  a  so-called  Christian  Nation.  Such  citizens 
as  we  are,  this  Republic  has  made  us.  If,  in  the  future,  the  finger  of 
scorn  should  be  pointed  to  our  legislation,  we  will  point  back  the 
finder  of  shame  and  condemnation  for  our  errors  and  mistakes,  to 
the  white  race  of  our  comtnoji  country  !  If  we  who  have  been  merci- 
lessly robbed  of  manhood,  wages  and  suffrage,  who  have  been 
cruelly  defrauded  of  education  and  property,  fail  to  handle  State 
and  financial  affairs  in  such  a  manner  as  to  bring  back  prosperity 
to  our  oppressors,  it  will  be  for  them  a  judgment  from  Heaven  ! 
Let  all  the  world  say,  '  Amen.'  " 

Amidst  responsive  and  prolonged  *  Amens,'  he  bowed,  and  re- 
sumed his  seat. 

Hester  now  brought  forward  the  smoking  viands  of  the  breakfast. 
While  the  repast  was  in  progress,  conversation  turned  upon  the 
coming  ballot. 

"  I  do  not  perceive  the  magnanimity  of  conferring  citizenship 
upon  Freedmen,"  said  Doctor  Steele  (Roland.)  "  Colored  suffrage 
is  not  a  new  thing  to  Congress,  or  the  States.  For  eighty  years, 
each  Southerner  has  fought  the  Northern  mono-suffragist  with  his 
own  vote,  and  the  votes  of  three-fifths  of  any  number  of  slaves  he 
might  possess — counting  slave  women  and  infants.  That  kind  of 
negro  suffrage  crowded  the  Capitol  with  fire-eating  representatives, 
and  wrung  from  Congress  constant  Southern  exactions.  I  have 
examined  tiie  Census  of  i860,  and  I  find  that  in   South  Carolina 


794  WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

the  slave  vote  nearly  equaled  the  white  —  lacldng  only  about  fifty 
thousand,  to  about  three  hundred  thousand  of  white  representa- 
tion." 

"  True,  Doctor  Steele,"  answered  the  squire.  "The  Americans 
are  acquainted  with  colored  suffrage ;  and  when  it  was  under 
Southern  dictation,  I  do  not  consider  that  it  was  more  enlightened 
than  at  the  present.  That^  supported  Tyranny.  This^  supports 
Freedom." 

Every  mode  of  conveyance  was  brought  into  requisition,  to  trans- 
port the  family  and  visitors  to  the  voting  precinct. 

By  Fanny's  request,  Henry  Hughes  drove  two  large  docile  mules, 
attached  to  the  large  wagon,  carrying  the  ladies  in  the  afternoon, 
Afra  sitting  by  his  side. 

"  So  I  rode  with  Henry,  in  my  girlhood  ! "  said  Fanny  ;  and  a 
merrier  set  never  went  to  the  polls. 

Five  miles  drive  through  the  sunny  glades  of  forest,  brought  the 
party  to  the  spreading,  moss-draperied  live  oaks,  within  sight  of 
the  quiet,  orderly  throng  that  gathered  around  the  small,  weather- 
stained  building. 

There  was  no  angry  clash  of  partisan  phrase,  no  recrimination 
of  the  past,  no  vociferating  doubts  of  the  present.  Silent,  rever- 
ential, and  trusting,  the  voters  approached  the  ballot-box,  and  cast 
in  their  bits  of  paper,  inscribed  with  mystical  powers  which  they 
could  not  understand.  Few  knew  how  well  they  were  building ! 
Few  knew  that  thus  they  were  rehabilitating  the  State,  and  clothing 
her  in  the  beautiful  garments  of  Equity. 

A  feeling  of  awe  crept  over  the  party  from  "  St.  Cloud,"  at  their 
departure. 

The  blood-red  sun  hung  low  in  the  west  and  touched  every- 
thing with  crimson,  as  if  to  remind  all  of  the  terrible  sacrifice  by 
which  this  glorious  day  had  at  last  dawned  upon  the  down-trodden 
race. 

The  Precinct  was  holy  ground,  and  the  whole  assembly  seemed 
in  the  presence  of  Him  who  worketh  wonders. 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK  JUNE.  795 


CHAPTER   XL. 

MRS.  PAISLEY  was  closely  shut  into  her  parlor  and  had 
given  orders  that  no  one  be  admitted.  It  was  the  day  be- 
fore Christmas.  A  shapely  holly  tree,  clustered  with  its  scarlet 
berries,  and  glossy  green  leaves,  on  one  side  of  the  room,  was  re- 
ceiving her  earnest  attention.  Packages  of  various  sizes  were 
strewn  about,  waiting  to  join  their  companions  already  swinging 
from  the  branches. 

A  glance  at  the  street  showed  her  a  carriage  turning  away  ;  a 
ring  at  the  bell  announced  a  call. 

"  Oh,  my !  "  she  ejaculated  in  an  undertone,  "  this  room  is  all  in 
confusion,  myself  included  ;  "  and  flitting  into  the  hall,  met  her 
servant  with  a  hand  upon  the  knob.  "  Remember,  the  back  par- 
lor," she  said  hurriedly,  and  hastened  on. 

Before  she  had  reached  the  upper  landing  of  the  stairway,  a 
cheery  voice  called  after. 

"  Halloo  !  Mrs.  Paisley,  don't  you  know  me  ? " 

She  turned,  ran  down  as  quickly  as  she  had  flown  up,  and  in  a 
moment  was  in  her  brother  Willie's  arms. 

The  next  moment  she  said, — 

"  How  splendid  you  are !  dressed  in  the  top  of  fashion,  too. 
Why  did  you  not  write  us  you  were  coming?  Issy  and  father  will 
be  so  glad  to  see  you  !  " 

"  I  thought  everything  would  be  prepared  for  me  at  this  festive 
season,  without  that  formality,  and  you  see  I  judged  correctly." 

He  was  finishing  the  sentence  as  they  entered  the  back  parlor, 
which  was  garlanded  with  evergreen  and  glowing  holly  berries. 

"Aha!  my  little  sister  of  the  Alderbank  cabin  lives  like  a 
princess.  Where  did  you  procure  all  these  ?  What  are  these 
scalloped  thorny  leaves  ? " 

"  They  are  the  Christmas  holly  —  they  came  from  the  planta- 
tions.    Doctor  Roland  Steele  sent  them  down." 

They  took  seats  near  the  fire  by  the  grate. 

"  Well,  Sister  Addie,  I  confess  this  is  a  delightful  climate.     I  had 


796  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

many  a  good  skate  on  Boston  ice  before  leaving,  and  here  you  have 
bouquets  of  japonicas  and  rose-buds.  I  hear  our  dear  old  father 
is  elected  to  the  Constitutional  Convention.  Can  you  real- 
ize what  astounding  changes  have  been  wrought,  within  a  few 
years  ? " 

"  I  could  not  believe  the  evidence  of  my  senses,  at  first ;  but 
living  here  amid  rapifily  shifting  vicissitude  and  progress,  I  am 
accustomed  to  see  the  world  move.  How  long,  Willie,  will  you  re- 
main with  us  ?     All  winter  I  trust." 

"  I  have  leave  of  absence  for  two  months !  long  enough  to 
daguerreotype  Henry  Hughes  as  a  Constitution  maker,  indelibly 
upon  memory.  I  have  still,  as  fresh  as  ever,  the  picture  of  him 
as  a  half-clad,  half-fed,  despised  Northern  laborer.  I  have  a  fancy 
picture  of  him  as  a  Georgian  slave.  The  next  will  complete  the 
set." 

"  Were  many  Northerners  on  the  steamer?" 

"  Yes,  they  are  flocking  to  Southern  climes.  By  the  way,  I 
accompanied  ]\Irs.  Corinne  Buddington,  child  and  servant,  to 
Charleston.  I  expect  the  Valmonte  schism  is  healed,  for  while 
the  driver  was  removing  her  trunks  from  the  carriage,  I  observed 
a  most  affectionate  embrace  in  the  hall,  and  heard  the  words  ''Dear, 
dear   Corinne  ! " 

"Yes,  Corinne 's  long  absence  has  softened  Theresa's  cruel, 
supercilious  coldness.  1  am  told  that  she  is  even  quite  proud  of 
Alfy's  proiessional  fame,  and  that  she  has  conspicuously  hung  the 
picture  of  Corinne  and  husband  —  she  in  her  magnificient  bridal 
array — in  her  grand  parlor.  You  know  it  was  sent  to  her  imme- 
diately after  the  marriage."  * 

"That  is  all  as  it  should  be;  how  are  they  prospering  at  the 
plantation } " 

"Right  well.  Doctor  Steele  will  make  a  handsome  net  profit 
this  season.  His  rice  crop  is  abundant  and  of  excellent  quality. 
How  wonderfully  Lucy  and  Richard  watch  over  his  interests." 

"No  more  wonderfully,  I  think,  than  the  Beames  watched  over 
you  and  me,  Addie.  If  all  the  religion  in  this  world  was  of  the 
Beame,  Buddington,  Clarendon,  and  Link  variety,  the  churches 
would  be  relieved  of  the  necessity  of  laying  out  a  programme  for  a 
millennium.' 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  797 

"Precisely  my  opinion,  Brother  Willie.  AVhat  a  remarkable 
friend  and  father  Mr.  Link  has  proved  to  Alfy.  Will  he  pay  his 
respects  to  Mistress  Valraonte  this  winter  ?  " 

'•  Alfy  is  to  come  down  to  accompany  his  wife  and  child  back  to 
Boston.  You  should  see  that  little  '  Mary  Link  Buddington.'  She 
is  as  sweet  a  one-year-old  as  you  will  ever  meet.  I  expect  Mrs. 
Valmonte  will  adore  her." 

"Has  Corinne  a  white  nurse?" 

"By  no  means.  She  has  one  of  Robert  Adam  s  girls.  She  is 
devoted  to  Corinne  and  little  Mary,  and  will  know  how  to  please 
the  captious  Mrs.  Valmonte." 

Doctor  Paisley's  Christmas  board  was  generously  laid,  and  was 
surrounded  by  his  own  family,  the  Sterlingworths,  Hester,  and 
Doctor  Steele.  To  these  old  and  tried  friends,  were  added  two 
picturesque  figures  who  came  to  the  table  on  canes,  two  withered 
old  bodies  in  plaid  turbans,  faded  black  dresses,  and  neat  gingham 
aprons.  Both  had  worn  their  lives  out  in  the  cotton  field  ;  their 
unpaid  wages  had  all  been  pocketed  by  the  slave-master,  and  they 
were  left  to  eke  out  a  nearly  finished  earthly  existence,  by  the  daily 
sale  of  a  few  peanuts  on  the  street  corners.  Old  "  Nan  "  was  the 
protegee  of  Addie  ;  and  old  Peggy,  for  half  her  support,  leaned  daily 
upon  Afra.     Addie  had  said  to  Afra, — 

"  We  must  take  care  not  to  lead  selfish  lives."  In  a  sacred  glee, 
she  added,  "  Let  us  remember  we  are  in  a  good  and  regular  stand- 
ing in  the  liberal,  independent  Beame  church  of  Alderbank.  To 
continue  our  example  without  blemish,  let  us  give  these  two  good 
old  souls  a  Christmas  dinner." 

The  appetite  was  gratified  by  Southern  dishes  of  venison,  duck, 
wild  turkey,  ham,  rice,  yams,  and  a  tempting  dessert.  To  the  circle 
still  lingering  at  the  table.  Doctor  Paisley  said, — 

"  Gentlemen  and  ladies,  we  never  use  wine  as  a  beverage.  I 
propose  in  its  stead,  copious  libations  of  the  nectar  of  poesy,  that 
if  possible,  our  hearts  may  be  stimulated  to  nobler  aspirations,  and 
that  our  minds  may  be  healthily  lifted  above  the  groveling  cares  of 
sense." 

His  reply  was  unanimous   applause.      Each  poem  was  recited 
standing.     Mr.  Sterlingworth   repeated  first  "The   Reformer,"   by. 
Whittier.     Fanny  begged  the  pleasure  of  paying  a  poetical  tribute 


79^  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

to  Jefferson  Davis,  arxd  recited  with  dramatic  effect,  "  King  Canute 
and  his  Nobles,"  by  Doctor  Wolcott.  Willie  Hughes  recited  for 
his  father  who  rose  with  his  son,  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson's  "  Boston 
Hymn,"  read  in  Music  Hall,  Jan.  i,  1863.  He  was  followed  by 
Doctor  Steele,  who  repeated  for  himself  and  Hester,  standing,  "The 
Black  Regiment,"  by  George  H.  Boker.  Afra  was  called  upon 
next.  Without  prudery  and  with  a  winning  grace,  she  repeated, 
Tennyson's  "Lady  Godiva."  Addie  followed  her  with  Long- 
fellow's "  Killed  at  the  Ford." 

Fanny  bade  old  "Nan"  and  "Peggy"  remain  in  their  seats, 
while  she  repeated  for  them,  "  Nearer,  my  God  to  Thee,"  by  Sarah 
F.  Adams.  Every  one  at  the  the  table  felt  their  eyes  misty  when, 
in  response  to  the  solemn  words  so  slowly  and  distinctly  repeated, 
their  wrinkled  hands  clasped  and  their  heads  bowed  with  low 
groans,  at  every  verse. 

Little  Susie  and  Henry  were  lifted  upon  their  feet  in  chairs. 

"Little  Susie,  who  said  something  sweet.?  "  asked  her  mother. 

"A  —  be  Lincoln,  mamma." 

"  Repeat  it,  darling.     Whatever  — 

"  Hoteber  sail  appear  to  be  Dod's  will,  I  vill  do." 

The  general  applause  was  so  great  that  little  Susie  slid  down 
from  her  chair,  ran  round  to  Addie  and  hid  her  face  in  her  arms. 

Doctor  Paisley  rose  smilingly,  saying  he  desired  to  remember  a 
recent  visitor  to  the  city,  "Miss  Mary  Link  Buddington."  A  wreath 
of  smiles  met  the  request.  In  the  tenderest  voice,  as  if  endeav- 
oring to  make  the  little  lady  herself  understand,  he  slowly  repeated 
'^Baby  Bye,"  from  Theodore  Tilton.  After  the  cheering  and 
laughing,  he  said, — 

"Dear  friends,  our  wine  is  quaffed  and  our  nerves  are  still 
strong.  As  other  offices  devolve  upon  this  festival  day,  shall  we 
have  the  benediction  t  Papa's  boy  can  repeat  the  words  of  Mr. 
VVilliam  Lloyd  Garrison  at  Charleston,  in  April,  1865." 

The  party  rose,  Henry  Hughes  going  round  to  Hft  his  petted 
grandson  again,  into  his  chair  The  child  repeated  in  a  clear,  in- 
nocent voice,  these  words, — 

"  /  hieiv  of  the  black  or  colored  people  as  the  children  of  God,  men 
and  women,  created  in  the  safne  divifie  ifnage,  having  by  creation  the 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  •         799 

same  sacred  rights,  and  as  much  entitled  to  liberty  as  the  proudest  slave- 
holdor  that  walked  the  earth." 

"A  sentiment,  sublime  as  Garrison  himself!"  responded  Mr. 
Sterlingworth,  to  which  all  present  assented. 

Issy  and  Addie  led  the  way  to  the  parlor,  where  the  holly-tree  was 
unveiled.  Willie  Hughes  was  delegated  to  pluck  the  Christmas 
fruitage,  which  was  bountiful  and  appropriate.  None  were  for- 
gotten ;  but  as  Henry  Hughes  is  the  hero  of  the  day,  his  remem- 
brances only  need  be  enumerated.  Afra  put  into  his  hands  a 
sealed  box,  inscribed  "From  May  Dentelle." 

His  eyes  habitually  sad,  lighted  up  at  the  sound  of  that  name. 

"  Open  it  now,  dear  father,"  said  Willie,  coming  forward  to  as- 
sist. 

The  old  man  loosed  the  knots  of  the  package,  as  if  they  were 
sacred  from  the  giver's  touch.  The  seal  was  broken,  and  a  tiny 
key  was  discovered.  He  unlocked  it,  and  lo!  exclamations  were 
uttered  by  all  gathered  about  him.  He  raised  a  costly  gold  watch 
and  massive  fob  chain  with  elegant  seals. 

"  Moultrie  Bloome  !  "  exclaimed  Willie,  "  it  must  be  her  deceased 
father's  watch.  There  is  a  small,  folded  note,  dear  father,  and 
money  beneath  it." 

"  Read  the  note,  my  son." 

He  read, — 

'•June,  receive  this  watch  from  May.  Wear  it  always.  With  this  money,  I 
desire  that  you  should  purchase  an  entire  fine  black  cloth  suit  and  whatever  else 
will  add  to  your  happiness  and  comfort.  It  is  due,  with  a  much  greater  amount 
for  your  long  and  faitliful  service  to  May." 

"  The  Lord  is  good,"  said  Henry  in  an  agitated  voice. 

After  a  half  hour  of  admiraUon,  both  of  the  giver  and  the  gift, 
Willie  placed  the  watch  upon  his  father's  person. 

"  Henry  Hughes  !  '  again  cried  Afra.  This  time  it  was  a  cane 
with  a  bent  handle.  Upon  a  gold  plate  she  read,  "  Willie,  to  his 
father."  He  further  explained  that  it  grew  near  the  spot  by  the 
river  in  Alderbank,  where  the  little  cabin  once  stood. 

"  Henrv  Hughes  again,"  laughed  Afra. 

"I  believe  you  are  a  good  fairy  like  your  mother,"  he  said, 
taking  the  package  and  opening  it. 


8oo        •  WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

"  Gold  spectacles,"  he  said.  "  I  am  afraid  I  shall  lose  the  humil- 
ity necessary  to  my  condition.     Read  Afra." 

She  read, — 

"  From  Issy  and  Addie." 

He  made  no  reply,  appearing  more  concerned  than  pleased. 

"  Do  not  take  these  inflictions  to  heart,  poor  father,"  said  Doc- 
tor Paisley.  "  You  deserve  all  these,  and  more.  These  few 
mementos  are  a  small  reward  for  your  life  of  suffering." 

** Wear  them,  use  them,"  added  Mr.  Sterlingworth.  "They  are 
but  a  small  portion  of  your  unpaid  wages,  Mr.  Hughes.  The  gold 
and  broadcloth  belong  to  the  honest  toiler.  Wear  them  and  be 
happy." 

"  Old  "  Nan  "  and  "  Peggy  "  tottered  up  to  him  on  their  canes 
with  the  happiest  of  faces. 

"  Wear  dem  ebery  day,"  they  said  ;  "  youse  earn  twenty  watch, 
—  all  gold;  youse  earn  whole  plantation  —  tousan  acre  ;  tank  de 
Lord  youse  got  your  chilen  !  Wese  got  none  —  all  done  sold  ;  me 
five  and  Peggy  six — all  done  gone.  Tank  de  Lord  for  de  chilen 
and  de  gold." 

Afra  went  back  to  the  holly  tree,  and  cried  "  Nan  and  Peggy." 
She  carried  a  large  package  to  each  containing  a  full  suit  of  cloth- 
ing, neatly  finished  for  immediate  use.  The  thanks,  chatting,  nod- 
ding, unfolding  and  folding  done  in  their  corner,  was  the  brightest 
feature  of  that  Christmas. 

At  the  departure,  Fanny  took  Hester  home  with  her  ;  and  for  a 
week  she  enjoyed  the  rest  and  quiet  of  the  Sterlingworth  family. 
Together  they  recounted  their  New  England  past,  with  many  a 
hearty  laugh  of  derision  and  triumph. 

On  the  fourteenth  of  January,  Henry  Hughes  stepped  down  from 
Doctor  Paisley's  door,  watched  by  the  happy  face  of  Addie,  and 
leaning  proudly  upon  Willie's  arm,  passed  down  through  Meeting 
street,  entered  the  deep  yard  of  the  Club  House,  wound  along  its 
evergreen  shrubbery,  ascended  the  broad  staircase,  entered  the 
grand  hall  of  God-defying,  slave-holding  wassail,  and  took  his  seat 
among  the  one  hundred  and  twenty  four  delegates  for  the  purpose 
of  framing  for  the  rebellious  State  of  South  Carolina  a  constitution 
which  should  establish  justice  as  the  law  of  the  land.     His  elegant 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  8oi 

dress,  his  massive  gold  chain  and  seals,  the  gold  mounted  cane  on 
which  his  hand  rested,  the  spectacles,  gray  hair,  his  noble,  patient 
face,  and  his  keen,  intelligent  eye  were  aristocratic  and  impressive 
to  the  spectators. 

He  looked  about  upon  the  earnest,  hopeful  white  faces.  North- 
ern and  Southern,  mingling  in  nearly  equal  number  with  delegates 
of  his  own  color.     In  a  prayerful  soliloquy,  he  murmured, — 

"  Old  things  have  passed  away.    Behold^  ell  thi?igs  have  become  new.'* 

He  raised  his  head,  and  the  Divine  image  in  which  he  was 
created  illuminated  every  feature.  The  mantle  of  his  stolen  man- 
hood fell  at  last  upon  the  shoulders  of  Henry  Hughes,  enfolding 
him  in  a  new  glory  scarcely  understood  by  himself.  His  heretofore 
bent  form  sat  erect.  His  head,  heretofore  bowed  in  despair,  took 
its  proper  and  dignified  poise.  A  radiant  smile  of  hope  and  trust 
beamed  upon  his  grief-furrowed  lineaments.     He  said  mentally, — 

"  In  the  language  of  Cloudspire  church,  at  last,  I  see  a  great  light 
Restored  to  my  educated  children,  to  freedom,  to  political  and 
civil  equality,  what  can  I  ask  for  more .?  " 

Willie,  sitting  apart  among  the  spectators,  recalled  the  negro  pew 
of  Cloudspire  religion  ;  the  Buddinglon  pew  torn  up  to  the  bare 
sleepers,  and  the  ground  beneath.  In  a  dizzy  rapture  he  ex- 
claimed,— 

"  The  Lord  reigns  !  The  sight  alone,  presented  in  this  hall,  is  a 
canticle  of  praise  ! 

'  Though  the  mills  of  God  grind  slowly, 

Yet  they  grind  exceeding  small ; 
Though  with  patience  He  stand  waiting, 

With  exactness  grinds  He  all.'  " 

During  that  winter,  a  letter  arrived  at  ''  St.  Cloud  "  plantation 
for  Filette,  post-marked  at  Charleston.  She  broke  the  heavy  seal 
bearing  the  initials,  C.  L.,  took  out  three  sheets  of  closely  written 
note  paper,  scanning  the  signature  first.  She  immediately  sum- 
moned Lucy,  and  together  they  read  the  alternation  of  pleasant 
and  startling  information,  of  which  a  few  extracts  will  be  sufficient. 

^^  Alabama,  Feb.  15,  1S65. 
My  Dear  Hebe,  —  Do  not  be  offended  to  learn  that  we  have  made  the  long 
journey  from  New  York,  without  a  call  of  love  upon  Charleston,  and  *  St.  Cloud.' 
Claude  and  I  have  long  had  in  min^  the  idea  of  purchasing  the  Channaire 


802  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

mansion  in  this  State,  both  for  the  gratification  of  my  dear  mother,  Celestine 
Channaire,  and  to  secure  to  ourselves  a  winter  residence  in  the  South.  Conse- 
quently, Claude  made  a  trip  here  early  in  the  fall,  and  found  the  house  and 
grounds  not  only  in  excellent  repair,  but  adorned  with  rare  shrubbery,  gardens, 
an  orangery,  and  pleasant  parks. 

"  Property  has  depreciated  since  the  war,  and  this  dear  home  of  my  mother's 
childhood  was  for  sale  at  half  its  former  price.  Claude  purchased  it,  and  re- 
turned quickly. 

"  r  proposed  to  my  mother,  to  take  a  Southern  journey  to  Savannah,  to  visit 
dear  May  Dentelle.  We  took  a  steamer  in  New  York  for  that  city,  remained  a 
week  with  May,  and  proposed  a  further  tour  South.  As  we  journeyed,  my 
mother  said,  '  Pearl,  would  not  you  like  to  visit  my  beloved  home,  and  although 
it  is  in  the  hands  of  strangers,  fix  its  principal  features  in  memory?'  Claude 
assented.  We  arrived  at  the  town  near  it.  and  took  a  carriage  a  short  distance 
through  the  country,  to  '  Elysee,'  the  name  of  the  plantation. 

"  At  the  high,  handsome  iron  gateway,  overrun  with  ivy,  my  mother  hesitated, 
and  said,  *  I  di.^like  to  meet  strangers  here.  Let  us  survey  the  grounds,  and 
return.'  Claude  said  assuringly,  '  R-main  here  with  Pearl  a  few  moments,  and 
I  will  remove  all  unpleasantness  about  entering.'  Poor,  suffering  mother  !  She 
looked  so  pale  and  agitated  !  While  she  surveyed  from  the  carriage  the  delight- 
ful surroundings.  Claude  returned,  saying  the  people  were  very  courteous,  and 
invited  our  party  to  enter.  She  took  my  arm  up  the  long  brick  walk,  seeming 
scarcely  able  to  stand. 

"  We  entered  the  spacious  hall,  and  turned  into  the  parlor,  without  attend- 
ance. It  was  freshly  carpeted,  and  supplied  with  new,  stylish,  rose-wood 
furniture. 

"  '  Ah  ! '  said  my  mother,  weeping,  '  how  delightful !  Here  in  these  parlors 
and  chambers  I  spent  the  gayest,  happiest  part  of  my  life  ! ' 

'•  I  said,  *  Come  up  stairs,  and  show  me  your  chamber,  dear  mother.'  She 
utterly  refused,  as  being  a  breach  of  good  manners.  'No,  I  replied  ;  the  occu- 
pants are  perfectly  willing  you  should  do  so.  and  have  even  invited  us  to  dine.' 
Just  then  Claude  entered  with  my  former  Italian  maid,  Cossetina.  My  mother 
knew  that  she  had  come  over  from  Italy,  in  great  povert}^,  with  her  husband  and 
children,  to  New  York,  and  recognized  her  immediately. 

" '  Cossetina,  how  came  you  here  ? '  she  asked. 

*•  I  could  not  endure  her  cruel  suspense  longer,  and  answered,  '  Dear  mother, 
this  charming  Elysee  is  yours  and  mine  !  We  are  to  pass  the  winter  here. 
Come  to  your  own  chamber  — it  awaits  you.'  Claude  had  furnished  it  as  nearly 
as  possible  in  conformity  to  the  descriptions  she  had  often  given  me  in  conver- 
sation. He  assisted  her  up  stairs;  and  in  her  own  furnished  apartment,  she 
gave  way  to  one  of  those  nervous  attacks,  by  which  she  was  often  prostrated  in 
other  days.     She  desired,  as  usual,  to  be  left  alone. 

"  We  are  very  happy  here  now.  My  mother  and  I  are  healthy  and  strong. 
Cossetina  is  in  ecstasies.  Her  husband  is  an  experienced  gardener,  and  when 
we  go  North  for  the  summers,  they  will  remain   to  take  care  of  Elysee.     Our 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  803 

beautiful  Italian  tongue  is  revived,  and  whatever  spies  may  lurk  around  us 
Northerners,  they  will  be  no  wiser.  Cossetina  speaks  Italian  with  me  ;  her  hus- 
band and  children  know  no  English. 

*'  The  poor  Freedmen  in  the  country  are  in  a  terrible  fear  from  the  secret  so- 
cieties, called  Klu  Klux  Klans.  This  murderous  organization  is  composed  of 
former  slave-holders,  who  go  out  nights,  whipping,  maiming,  and  hanging  Re- 
publican voters,  and  members  of  the  '  Union  League.'  They  dress  in  grotesque 
costumes,  wholly  concealing  identity.  One  of  the  Cyclopses,  as  they  terra  their 
leaders,  has  endeavored  to  induce  Claude  to  join  them,  so  that  he  has  all  the 
mysteries  of  the  Order.  Claude  excused  himself  on  the  ground  that  he  was 
not  a  resident  of  Alabama  ;  and  although  a  Democrat  in  ante-bellum  times,  he 
now  had  assumed  neutrality,  on  account  of  ill  health,  and  constant  change  of 
location. 

"One  sure  shield  of  protection  to  us  from  these  midnight  assassins,  is  the 
fact  which  I  take  pains  to  disseminate,  that  I  am  a  native  South  Carolinian. 
Thanks  to  Claude's  former  experience  among  these  bloodthirsty  Alabamiars, 
and  to  the  Italian  which  will  be  spoken  in  our  absence,  we  shall  escape  being 
murdered  or  driven  out. 

*'  My  mother  has  resolved  to  pass  the  summer  here,  as  the  proud  mistress  of 
*  Elysee.'  1  am  glad  to  hear  that  you  are  all  going  North  this  vear  ;  and  that 
you  and  Lucy  will  go  on  this  spring.  I  shall  do  myself  the  pleasure  of  spend- 
ing a  few  of  the  summer  weeks  with  your  dear  families  in  Cloudspire.  In  re- 
turn, vv-e  shall  claim  your  winters,  or  a  part  of  them,  at  our  lovely  Elysee. 
^  "  I  cannot  tell  you  how  much  Claude  misses  March,  both  hefe,  and  in  New 
York  ;  but  we  could  not  consent  to  retain  him  longer.  His  intelligence,  gentle- 
manly address,  and  the  general  information  which  he  has  acquired  North  by 
extensive  reading,  and  contact  with  our  noblest  minds,  eminently  fit  him  for  a 
leader  in  the  Republican  movement  of  the  day.  The  way  is  open  for  his  politi- 
cal preferment,  and  we  could  but  bid  him  God-speed.  He  writes  that  he  is  a 
candidate  for  the  Legislature  ;  and  we  know  he  will  become  a  wise  and  judic- 
ious Statesman.  We  shall  not  fail  to  visit  him  in  Columbia  during  one  of  the 
Legislative  sessions  !     Grace  a  Dieii,     Le  bofi  temps  a  vemc. 

"I  send  this  letter  to  Charleston  by  the  politeness  of  one  of  Claude's  Northern 
friends.     I  doubt  the  safety  of  mailing  it  here. 

"  Pearl  Z.  C.  Lambelle-'* 


CHAPTER  LXI. 

"  IT  ERE!  you  infernal  Atlanta,  Sherman,  Georgia  nig^ger ! 
XX  How's  your  male  going  to  draw  a  cart,  that  way.?  Buckle 
your  harness,  there.  Get  a  strong  string,  and  tie  up  that  breeching. 
Can't  buy  new  harnesses  now,  till  the  country  gets  over  thatcurse^d 
Yankee  invasion  !     Recollect,  I  am  overseer  at  present  !      I  don't 


8o4  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

understand  what   such   a  blockhead  dropped   out   of    Sherman's 
ranks  for." 

The  black  in  patched  clothes,  and  toeless  boots,  smiled  without 
anger,  and  said, — 

"  JNIus'  work  for  de  hominy,  and  sweet  tater,  sir." 

"  You'd  better  have  gone  on  to  Washington,  and  made  laws  in 
Congress,  you'd  do  as  well  at  that,  as  our  ringstreaked  —  and  — 
striped  Convention  here  in  Charleston  !  " 

"  Don'  know  what  dat  be,  sir  !  "  tying  up  the  breeching. 

"  You  never  was  made  to  know  anything.  Go  ahead,  down  to 
the  rice  banks." 

Colonel  Haywood  sprang  on  to  his  horse,  and  cantered  away 
down  to  the  rice  fields  where  his  hired  freedmen  were  clearing  out 
the  ditches. 

He  had  occupied  "Vaucluse"  two  years.  He  had  a  hard 
struggle  to  start  cultivation.  His  house  was  nearly  stripped  of  its 
furniture  —  how,  and  by  whom,  no  one  told.  Colored  troops  had 
camped  near,  United  States  officers  had  quartered  in  his  chambers, 
cantered  up  and  down  the  magnificent  avenue,  and  sauntered  in 
his  gardens,  while  their  horses  had  been  stabled  in  his  stalls.  The 
white,  scalloped  fence,  around  Grade's  flower  garden,  still  stood, 
dilapidated  and  paintless.  Some  of  his  former  slaves  remained ; 
others,  weary  of  Colonel  Haywood's  tyranny  and  hard  usage,  had 
gone,  some  one  way,  some  another.  Their  places  had  been  sup- 
plied by  other  freedmen  seeking  employment ;  and  over  all  the 
colonel  kept  a  sharp  supervision.  His  dog  kennel  had  fallen  to 
ruin,  no  longer  the  baying  hounds,  followed  by  the  thundering 
heels  of  gay  huntsmen,  resounded  in  the  forests.  But  one  of  his 
numerous  stalls  is  now  occupied,  and  that  by  a  half-worn  cavalry 
horse  which  suffices  for  plantation  business. 

Grace  has  but  one  servant,  who  unites  the  duties  of  maid,  seam- 
stress and  table  waiter. 

One  cook  occupies  the  extensive  kitchens,  who,  finding  that  the 
reduced  "cuisine  "  of  the  lord  proprietary,  gives  sufficient  time  for 
laundry  service,  takes  that  upon  herself,  also.  Of  the  fifteen 
house-servants  which  kept  Vaucluse  in  palatial  order,  before  the 
civil  war,  not  one  met  the  family  on  their  return  to  offer  service. 
The  name  of  March,  long  since  dropped   out  from  Colonel   Hay- 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  805 

wood's  curses,  ceased  to  make  a  part  of  the  plantation  gossip. 
The  kidnapped  waiting-man,  procured  in  his  place  by  the  paid  in- 
strumentality of  Lem  Hamm,  had  stolen  away  to  the  Federal  army 
and  found  his  way  North. 

Yet,  a  short  time  antecedent  to  Colonel  Haywood's  return,  Vau- 
cluse  welcomed  a  wanderer  of  which  he  knew  nothing.  Old  Prudy 
was  long  since  dead.  The  inmates  of  her  cabin  in  the  slave  quar- 
ters gathered  around  the  light- wood  fire,  in  the  early  part  of 
November,  1865,  heard  a  light  knock  upon  the  door,  and  suspi- 
ciously opened  it  to  a  stranger.  With  proper  respect  to  his  fine 
dress  and  bearing,  he  was  invited  to  enter. 

"  Cato,  have  you  forgotten  your  old  friend  ? "  said  the  brown  man 
with  a  smile,  extending  his  gloved  hand  for  the  large,  brawny,  toil- 
worn  one  of  the  cabin's   occupant. 

A  supertitious  fear  was  observable  in  the  reply. 

"  I  tink  I  know  dat  voice.     Is  you  March  ?  " 

"I  am  March  ;  don't  be  afraid,  Cato.  I  did  not  come  out  of  my 
grave.     I  am  alive  and  well." 

Cato  gave  him  a  cordial  welcome,  set  for  him  the  same  carefully 
preserved  old  arm-chair  that  March's  father  had  given  to  Prudy, 
threw  on  more  light-wood,  and  asked  how  he  came .'' 

"Are  your  children  asleep,  Cato  ?  " 

"  Ebry  one  —  only  tree  of  'em.  Don'  you  be  'fraid,  March; 
nobody  on  dis  plantation  hear  you  —  all  still  —  like  Death  been 
here." 

"  Do  you  know  anything  of  Ralph  ?  " 

"  He  send  word  he  come  in  tree  weeks,"  answered  Cato's  wife. 
"  We  neber  want  to  see  him  gin." 

"Well,  then,  I  am  waiting  upon  Northern  officers,  stationed 
about  ten  miles  from  here.  They  very  kindly  loaned  me  an  army 
horse,  and  I  rode  over  to  see  the  old  place  once  more,  to  gather 
the  news  from  you  all.     Can  we  get  my  horse  into  the  stables  ? " 

"  He  can  hab  all  de  stall  to  hisself.  It  be  de  clar  moon  and  we 
can  see  any  ting." 

"  Is  my  Flora's  cabin  occupied  ?  " 

"  Np,  March  ;  de  people's  gone  ;  it  be  all  lone." 

They  went  out  together,  put  the  horse  in  the  stable,  and  fed  him 
with  oats  that  March  brought  with  him. 


8o6  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

"  Now,"  he  said  to  Cato,  "  I  must  spend  this  night  in  Flora's 
cabin ;  I  have  an  army  blanket,  and  with  a  good  fire  shall  be  hap- 
pier than  anywhere  else.  I  am  going  down  to  the  old  Palmetto 
tree  where  my  dear,  lost  Flora  prayed  for  me  last ;  if  you  will  get 
a  fire  kindled,  Cato,  I  will  tell  you  my  story  when  I  return." 

March  went  on  alone  down  the  path,  past  the  piny  grove,  through 
the  deep,  sere  grasses  in  the  open  fields,  under  the  magnolias,  past 
the  copses  of  sweet  bay,  to  the  sacred  spot  where  he  buried  the 
pretty  French  basket,  and  the  beautiful  gifts  he  brought  across  the 
water  to  his  still  beloved  Flora.  The  old  palmetto  had  succumbed 
to  the  destroying  hand  of  time,  but  its  rough  stump  was  fondly 
cherished  by  a  richer  mantle  of  jasmine,  reaching  over  to  the  other 
trees  about  it. 

The  old  agony  returned.  Flora's  sweet  vision  seemed  to  float 
about  him  as  of  yore. 

"  Slavery  is  dead  ! "  he  ejaculated,  "  but  its  cruelties  remain  !  " 

With  an  aching  heart  he  kneeled  upon  the  small  grave  and 
prayed,  that,  "  if  indeed  she  might  yet  live,  Flora,  abused,  crushed, 
worn,  broken  with  grief  and  years,  might  be  restored  to  his  enfold- 
ing love."  But  his  petition  appeared  hopeless.  When  he  arose 
from  his  knees,  the  lovely  vision  seemed  to  have  departed  as  a 
warning  that  she  could  never  return.  "  Flora  is  dead.  There  is 
nothing  left  to  me  on  earth  but  her  dear,  unfading  memory." 

How  long  he  lingered,  gazing  again  and  again  at  every  object, 
he  scarcely  knew  ;  but  he  finally  found  himself  at  the  door  of  her 
cabin,  where  Cato  waited.     His  grief  was  renewed  within. 

"  O  my  Savior  !  "  he  cried,  "  this  room  ,  once  so  happy,  has  for 
me  the  chill  of  the  tomb  !  "  He  recalled  her  laughing  eyes,  her 
busy  housewifery,  her  silken  curls,  and  seemed  to  feel  again  her 
arms  about  him. 

"  Don't  griebe  so  much,"  said  Cato.  ''  Come,  go  trough  de  big 
house.     I'se  got  de  key.     Turn  your  mind.     Come." 

They  walked  on  to  the  "  big  house,"  which  was  as  silent  and 
empty  as  Flora's  cabin.  They  entered.  The  moonlight  was  suf- 
ficient to  show  the  absence  of  luxury  and  comfort  within.  The 
library  door  was  open ;  the  glass  doors  of  the  empty  book-cases 
swung  at  random. 

"  In  Ralph's  chamber,"  Cato  said,  "  De  Yankee  officers  sleep 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  807 

here.  De  hand  ob  de  Lord  sweep  all  dese  room,  clean.  No  more 
furniture  here  dan  in  my  cabin." 

They  returned  to  Flora's  fire-lighted  room.  March  rolled  him- 
self in  the  blanket,  and  threw  himself  on  the  floor  before  the 
blaze,  exhausted.  He  related  the  events  of  his  escape,  withholding 
names.  Cato's  eyes  enlarged  at  the  recital  of  the  box-ride  from 
Philadelphia  to  New  V^ork.  He  threw  himself  flat  upon  the  floor, 
and  turned  several  somersaults  for  joy. 

"  De    Lord    bless    de    Yankees!"    he  cried;    "dey   don'    'fraid 

nothin." 

Cato  sat  through  the  remainder  of  the  night,  on  an  old  piggin, 
watching  March  while  he  slept,  and  keeping  the  fire.  In  the  gray 
dawn  he  awoke  him,  and  brought  his  horse  to  the  door. 

March  put  five  dollars,  broken  in  small  currency,  into  Cato's 
hand. 

"Remember,"  he  said,  "you  are  not  to  mention  my  name  or 
allow  my  return  here  to  be  known.  I  have  a  great  dread  of  Ralph 
Haywood.  I  believe  there  is  no  black  deed  he  will  not  lay  his 
hand  to,  if  he  finds  opportuniiy.  Remember,  Cato,  my  name  is 
Paul  Snow,  in  the  regiment.  The  officers  and  men  know  no 
other." 

"  I  'member  all,  Paul  Snow,"  said  Cato. 

One  more  mournful  look  within  Flora's  cabin,  and  the  svirift  beat 
of  a  gallop  died  down  ttje  pines. 

Colonel  Haywood  returned  from  the  rice  ditches  earlier  than 
usual,  at  ten  o'clock. 

"  Grace,  how  is  the  dinner  coming  on  ? "  he  said  in  haste,  as  he 
entered  his  chamber.  "  You  see  we  are  to  have  twelve  planters 
here  from  this  district,  besides  that  cuss,  Rev.  Edmund  Stone. 
The  meeting  is  appointed  at  ten  o'clock,  and  we  must  dine  at 
twelve.  They  will  ride  a  long  distance,  some  of  them,  and  need  a 
good  meal.  I'll  go  down,  and  swear  at  the  cook ;  that  will  help 
the  thing  along." 

"  No,  Ralph,  I  beg  you  not  to  do  that ;  she  will  leave  directly, 
and  then  I  shall  have  to  pick  up  anybody.  You  know  they  have 
grown  so  independent  since  they  were  freed,  that  we  are  forced  to 


8o8  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

be  careful.     The  dinner  will  not  wait.     I  have  just  been  to  the 
kitchen." 

"Independent!  D  —  n  them!  I'll  take  the  starch  out  of  these- 
niggers,  when  I  get  this  company  organized.  Is  my  disguise  fin- 
ished.?" 

**It  will  be  in  time;  I  am  at  work  on  it  now.  Do  you  know, 
Ralph,  I  never  undertook  anything  in  my  remembrance,  that  gave 
me  the  pleasure  that  this  Klu  Klux  disguise  does.  You  see  I  can- 
not sew  fast,  for  I  never  learned  to  use  a  needle." 

"  How  shall  I  get  the  others  made  ?  There  will  be  some  poor 
devils  that  cannot  buy  one.     I  shall  have  to  furnish  them." 

"  Do  not  be  troubled.  I  will  call  a  meeting  of  the  ladies,  and 
they  will  be  as  glad  as  I,  to  engage  in  anything  that  will  put  the 
negroes  in  subjection,  and  keep  them  away  'from  the  Union 
Leagues.  Ralph,  why  do  you  hire  that  clergyman  ?  I  don't  think 
we  are  able  to  pay  him  a  salary." 

"  I  don't  hire  the  d  —  d  dwarf;  he  must  stay  somewhere  ;  he  is 
a  good  Democrat,  and  will  help  my  plans.  He  asks  only  his  sup- 
port, and  the  niggers  will  supply  him,  mostly.  He's  got  a  black 
wife,  too,  that  works  in  the  rice-field  ;  she  will  help  support  him." 

The  arrivals  were  exact  in  number,  and  the  plain  dinner  was  laid 
in  time.  Assembled  in  the  parlor  with  closed  doors,  the  colonel 
took  the  initiative,  as  was  expected.     He  thus  addressed  them. 

" Gentlemen,  I  have  called  you  together  to-day,  to  advise  with 
you  upon  the  condition  of  our  State.  You  need  no  explanation  to 
understand  that,  without  some  effort  on  our  part  we  shall  soon  pass 
under  Negro  and  Radical  Rule.  Our  legislative  assemblies  were 
dispersed  by  Gilmore.  General  Sickles  annulled  our  revised  Crim- 
inal Code,  making  all  laws  applicable  alike  to  niggers  and  whites. 
Really,  he  abolished  color  and  caste.  Corporal  punishment,  too, 
the  best  remedy  for  insubordinates,  he  shivered  with  his  sword. 

"  All  negro  crimes  which  we  specify  as  felony,  without  benefit 
of  clergy,  are  to  be  tried  in  courts,  with  all  the  pomp  and  legal 
display  that  we  confer  upon  white  criminals.  Gods  !  what  are  we 
coming  to,  gentlemen  ?  In  Charleston  !  the  city  of  our  pride,  from 
which  we  have  heretofore  expelled  every  d  —  d  fanatic,  there  sits 
a  ring-streaked  and  striped  convention  of  niggers,  scalawags, 
and  Yankees.  , 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  809 

"We  relinquished  our  right  at  the  polls  very  foolishly,  I  think, 
on  that  convention.  The  Radicals  or  Union  Leagues  had  it  all 
their  own  way.     We  were  absentees." 

"  Ah,  colonel !  it  was  too  degrading  to  submit  to  military  rule 
and  vote  with  our  niggers  besides  ! "  said  another. 

"  We  have  been  under  the  military,  three  years,  since  the  war. 
Our  laws  have  been  made  and  administered  to  us  by  the  North,  as 
a  salutary  regimen  is  prescribed  for  invalids  !  "  observed  "  No.  3." 

''ParhkuP'  ejaculated  Colonel  Haywood.  "I  reject  the  dose  1 
or  at  least,  I  am  about  to  propose  to-day  an  antidote  for  what  we 
have  already  swallowed,  by  allowing  the  Constitutional  Convention 
to  go  through,  by  default." 

"  How  did  you  find  resistance  in  Georgia  and  Alabama,  colo- 
nel ? "  asked  '^No.  4." 

(As  this  is  a  Klu  Klux  conference,  it  will  be  proper  to  denomi- 
nate these  gentlemen  by  numbers  as  they  chose  to  designate  them- 
selves thus,  on  their  bloody  raids.) 

"  Every  sail  set,  sir,  and  a  stiff  breeze  blowing.  They  are  whip- 
ping and  killing  radical  niggers,  and  driving  out  white  Union 
Leaguers.  They  are  also  preventing  Radical  votes,  by  refusing  to 
contract  with  Radical  voters." 

"  Robert  Toombs  says  of  Republicans,  ^  Ostracise  them  \  drive 
them  out  ;  spurn  them  from  your  midst  P  "  observed  "  No.  6." 

"  That  is  the  only  proper  course  to  take  !  "  chimed  in  Rev. 
Edmund  Stone.  "  We  took  that  step  at  the  North,  towards  Abo- 
litionists." 

•'I  have  here,  gentlemen,"  said  the  colonel,  a  'Constitution,'  and 
'  By  Laws  '  for  our  secret  order,  which  I  wish  to  submit  to  your  de- 
cision this  afternoon,  that  we  may  get  ourselves  in  working  order 
before  the  election  for  the  Governor,  State  offices,  and  Legislature 
takes  place." 

"  I  propose  that  it  be  read,"  said  "No.  12." 

"  I  think  the  vote  would  be  unanimous  in  favor  of  reading,  with- 
out further  delay,"  said  "  No.  10." 

Colonel  Haywood  read  from  some  sheets  of  fools-cap. 

"  Obligations  of  the  Klu  Klux  Klan." 
"  I  (name)  before  the  Immaculate  Judge  of  Heaven  and  Earth, 


8lO  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE. 

and  upon  the  Holy  Evangelists  of  Almighty  God,  do  of  my  own 
free  will  and  accord,  subscribe  to  the  following  sacredly  binding 
obligation  : 

1.  We  are  on  the  side  of  Justice,  Humanity,  and  Constitutional 
Liberty,  as  bequethed  to  us  in  its  purity  by  our  foreLithers. 

2.  We  oppose  and  reject  the  principles  of  the  Radical  party. 

3.  We  pledge  mutual  aid  to  each  other  in  sickness,  distress,  and 
pecuniary  embarrassment. 

4.  Female  friends,  widows,  and  their  households,  shall  ever  be 
special  objects  of  our  regard  and  protection.  Any  member  divulg- 
ing, or  causing  to  be  divulged,  any  of  the  foregoing  obligations, 
shall  meet  the  fearful  penalty  and  traitor's  doom,  which  is  Death  ! 
Death!  Death r' 

Constitution. 

Article  i.     This  organization  shall  be  known  as Order,  No 

of  the  Klu  Klux  Klan  of  the  State  of  South  Carolina. 


Article  2.  The  officers  shall  consist  of  a  Cyclops,  and  Scribe, 
both  of  whom  shall  be  elected  by  a  majority  vote  of  the  Order,  and 
to  hold  their  office  during  good  behavior. 

Article  3.  It  shall  be  the  duty  of  the  Cyclops  to  preside  in  the 
Order,  enforce  a  due  observance  of  the  "  Constitution  "  and  the 
"  By-laws,"  and  an  exact  compliance  to  the  rules  and  the  usages 
of  the  Order.  To  see  that  all  the  members  perform  their  respect- 
ive duties,  appoint  all  committees  before  the  Order,  inspect  the 
arms  and  dress  of  each  member,  on  special  occasions,  to  call  meet- 
ings when  necessary,  draw  upon  members  for  all  sums  needed  to 
carry  on  the  Order. 

Section  2.  The  Scribe  shall  keep  a  record  of  the  proceedings 
of  the  Order,  write  communications,  notify  other  Klans  when  their 
assistance  is  needed,  give  notice  when  any  member  has  to  suffer 
the  penalty  for  violating  his  oath,  see  that  all  books,  papers  or 
other  property  belonging  to  his  office  are  placed  beyond  the  reach 
of  any  one  but  members  of  the  Order.  He  shall  perform  such 
other  duties  as  may  be  required  of  him  by  the  Cyclops." 

Section  second  of  article  fourth  prohibited  the  admission  of  any 
person  of  color. 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  8ll 

Article  sixth  read,  "  Any  member  who  shall  divulge  any  of  the 
matters  of  the  Order,  shall  suffer ^ieath." 

The  colonel  continued  to  read  further  articles,  and  a  paper  of 
by-laws.  Section  second  read,  "  Five  members  shall  constitute  a 
quorum,  provided  the  Cyclops,  or  Scribe  be  present." 

Article  fifth  read,  "  Each  member  shall  provide  himself  with  a 
pistol,  Klu  Klux  gown,  and  a  signal  instrument." 

"  How  is  the  signal  instrument  to  be  used,  colonel  ? "  asked 
"No.  6." 

"  It  is  a  whistle  for  intimating  danger.  When  the  Chief  uses 
k,  it  signifies,  '  Mount ; '  for  you  understand  that  all  members  must 
go  upon  raids,  mounted,  and  disguised.  Wait  a  moment,  gentle- 
men." 

He  left  the  room,  took  his  disguise  from  Grace,  returned,  and 
dressed  himself  in  a  long  blue  gown,  with  a  loose,  yellow  head 
-covering,  drawn  around  the  neck  with  a  string,  and  having^a  yel- 
low mask  face,  with  red  about  the  mouth  and  eyes.  A  shout  of 
exultation  went  round. 

"  The  Republicans  will  think  the  devils  are  let  loose,  when  they 
see  a  dozen  of  those  hideous  things !  "  said  "  No.  8." 

*•  They  will  believe  it  when  they  feel  the  halter  around  their  neck 
drawing  them  up  to  a  tree,  some  night !  ''  said  "No.  3." 

"  Or  when  they  feel  seventy-five  lashes  on  their  bare  backs,  with 
hickory  switches  or  with  iron  ramrods  !"  said  "No.  i."  "We'll 
make  good  Democrats  of  the  new-fledged  Union  Leaguers  !  " 

"  Shot  guns  or  muskets  will  answer  for  arms,"  said  the  colonel. 
"  An  Enfield  rifle  will  be  a  fine  arm  for  removing  some  white 
Radical  ursurper  out  of  our  way  through  a  crack  of  a  window  blind, 
or  a  curtain,  dark  nights.' 

"  This  organization  will  be  as  effectual  in  ridding  the  State  of 
Northern  poltroons,  as  our  stringent  laws  of  expulsion  were  before 
the  war  !  "  said  "  No.  7,"  with  a  malicious  laugh. 

"  How  many  Constitutions  and  By-laws  have  you,  colonel .?  " 
asked  "  No  i."  "  We  have,  some  of  us,  a  long  way  to  ride  on  our 
return  ;  it  is  necessary  to  complete  our  business  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble." 

"  I  have  written  out  six  for  the  party." 


8l2  WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE. 

"That  is  sufficient,"  replied  "No.  i  "  "Those  of  us  living  near 
the  gentleman  who  takes  one,  cajfi  easily  copy  and  return." 

"  There  are  many  offences  besides  political  ones,  which  will  call 
for  our  raids.  I  shall  swear  in  my  Klan  to-night,  and  raid  as  soon 
as  may  be,  on  two  defiant  niggers.  One  says  he  will  be  buried  in 
a  white  burying  ground.  He  will  need  a  whipping.  Another  on 
my  plantation  does  not  take  off  his  hat  when  he  meets  me ;  he 
must  be  dealt  with." 

"  It  is  quite  necessary  to  organize  immediately,  to  turn  our 
nigger  voters  into  good  democrats  before  the  election  —  besides 
we  must  go  around  to  the  polls ;  we  must  crowd  and  intimidate  !  " 
said  "  No  6."  "We  have  also  to  prepare  the  disguises,  which  will 
take  time.'' 

"  Our  ladies  will  meet  in  circles  and  finish  them  in  one  day," 
remarked  "  No  5." 

"Let  us  bear  in  mind,  gentlemen,"  said  the  colonel,  "when  any 
danger  of  exposure  happens,  '  Dead  men  tell  no  tales  T  " 

"  Aye !  aye !  a5^e  !  "  was  the  ready  response." 

The  colonel  furnished  copies  of  the  Constitution  and  By-laws. 

The  party  rose  to  take  leave. 

No.  12  asked, — 

"  What  signs  and  pass-words  the  colonel's  Order  would  use." 

"My  signs  will  be  first,  to  pass  the  right  hand  to  the  left  ear. 
Also,  place  the  right  heel  in  the  hollow  of  the  left  foot  —  the 
answer  will  be  given,  vice  versa.  Any  word  spelled  and  not  pro- 
nounced, will  be  a  pass-word,  such  as  '  s-a-y,'  or  any  other.  The 
title  of  my  Klan  will  be,  '  Holy  Stone  Klan,'  in  honor  of  our 
brother  here,  who  will  take  the  oath  to-night." 

"  I*think  it  is  important  to  have  another  general  conference,  one 
week  from  to-day,  in  order  to  secure  harmony  of  action,  and  report 
progress,"  suggested  "No.  5."     "As  my  location  is  most  central 
I  shall  most  cordially  welcome  you  all,  gentlemen,  at  my  house." 

It  was  agreed,  and  the  twelve  horsemen  disappeared  down  the 
avenue. 

After  Colonel  Haywood  had  bowed  his  guests  away,  he  returned 
to  the  parlor  with  Rev.  Edmund  Stone,  and  invited  him  to  remain 
at  Vaucluse  over  night  that  the  business  of  the  Klan  might  be  fully 
arranged,  and  understood.     The  clergyman  suavely  consented. 


WHITE   MAY,   AND    BLACK   JUNE.  813 

"I  desire/'  said  the  colonel,  "to  make  you  Scribe  —  you  are 
supposed  to  be  a  man  of  much  writing ;  therefore,  in  your  care  and 
keeping,  the  records  of  our  Order  will  be  secure.  No  active  ser- 
vice will  be  required  of  you  —  of  course,  Mr.  Stone,  you  do  not 
mingle  religion  and  politics." 

Rev.  Stone  bowed  in  a  servile  manner,  and  said, — 

"  Certainly  not,  colonel ;  my  mission  is  to  preach  *  Christ,  and 
Him  crucified.'  I  hope  that  the  eternal  salvation  of  man  is  distinct 
and  separate  from  worldly  or  political  subjects." 

"  Very  well,  Mr.  Stone,  suppose,  as  you  are  alone  and  at  leisure, 
you  take  the  oath  of  the  Order  here,  before  tea,  as  afterwards, 
after  dark,  ten  or  a  dozen  members  will  be  sworn,  and  we  shall 
need  time  to  open  the  records." 

"  I  am  at  your  service  colonel,  and  the  service  of  South  Caro- 
lina. It  is  the  State  of  my  adoption.  I  give  my  heart  and  hand 
in  the  interests  of  her  intelligent,  humane  people,  and  of  that  Con- 
stitutional liberty  bequeathed  to  us  in  its  purity,  by  our  forefathers. 
I  am  ready  to  take  the  oath,  sir." 

Colonel  Haywood  took  the  copy  of  the  oath,  and  standing,  said 
in  the  tone  of  an  absolute  dictator, — 

"  It  will  be  necessary  for  you  to  kneel,  sir,  and  hold  up  your 
right  hand." 

The  hump-backed  figure  slid  from  his  chair  to  his  knees  upon 
the  floor,  raised  his  bony  hand,  and  listened  solemnly  to  the  read- 
ing of  the  obligations, —  to  the  last  words  "  Death  !  Death  ! 
Death  !  "  and  as  if  to  bind  himself  still  stronger,  he  rolled  his 
round,  staring  eyes  heavenward,  and  echoed, — 

'■''  I  swear!'^ 

At  the  tea-table,  Grace  lavished  more  attentions  upon  this 
apostle  of  Christ  than  he  had  ever  received  from  a  South  Caro- 
linian. He  was  overwhelmed ;  being  unaccustomed  to  these 
favors,  his  acknov/ledgments  became  simpering  and  idiotic. 

The  two  gentlemen  exercised  upon  the  piazza  after  tea,  indulg- 
ing in  pipes. 

'^Jupiter !  I  used  to  enjoy  my  Havanas,"  said  the  colonel ;  "  but 
we  have  given  our  property  and  our  lives  for  the  South  Good 
God  !  I  don't  call  ours  a  lost  cause,  yet.  This  Klu  Klux  business 
will    fix  things   right.     History   but   repeats   itself.     In    the    long 


Sl4  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

records  of  man's  existence,  there  are  landmarks  by  which  we  may 
guide  our  uncertain  steps  down  the  rugged  paths  of  the  future.  I 
repeat  the  sentiment  of  the  Charleston  Mercury  I  was  speaking  of 
landmarks.  When  Oliver  Cromwell  trampled  upon  the  cream  of 
England,  and  laid  waste  her  palaces  and  gardens,  crushing  works 
of  art  and  scattering  loved  memories  of  past  time  with  brutal  joy  \ 
when  he- had  wasted  to  the  very  dregs  the  grand  old  Norman  blood 
that  had  built  the  British  Empire,  and  given  it  laws  and  civilization, 
and  arms,  and  raised  it  among  the  powers  of  the  earth,  then  came 
the  reaction;  and  Charles  Second  was  proclaimed  with  almost 
universal  satisfaction.  King  of  England. 

"  So  the  '  May  Flower '  set  her  sails,  laden  with  the  germs  of 
future  woe,  and  the  Norway  rats  and  the  English  Radicals  landed 
together  on  the  mall  stone  typically  called,  '  Plymouth  Rock,'  to 
the  pest  of  the  world,  and  the  destruction  ot  the  United  States 
Government.  Now  will  come  the  reaction.  The  Cavaliers  of  the 
South,  the  born  rulers,  will  establish  themselves  in  the  power  inher- 
ent in  their  noble  blood. 

*'  We  have  another  landmark  in  Roman  struggles.  When  Marius, 
master  of  butchers,  brutal,  savage,  hater  of  all  elevation,  hater  of 
all  excellence,  at  the  head  of  a  filthy  mass  of  emissaries  and  for- 
eign slaves,  assaulted  his  country  and  turned  her  nelds,  her  forums, 
her  gardens,  and  her  palaces  into  butcher  pens  for  the  spilling  of 
that  blood  which  through  centuries  had  made  Rome  the  master  of 
the  world,  then  came  Sylla.  Sylla,  red-handed,  a  fate,  succeeded 
Marius,  the  beast,  and  the  Roman  Empire  was  established. 

"  History  repeats  itself,  I  say  again.  Rev.  Mr.  Stone,  and  will 
repeat  itself  in  these  States  of  America." 

He  strode  with  weightier  step  across  the  piazza,  and  after  some 
earnest  affirmation  from  his  low,  ill-shapen  companion,  he  con- 
tinued,-^- 

"  Alexander  H.  Stephens,  the  vice-president  of  our  Confederacy, 
believes  there  ?}mst  be  a  war  of  races.  He  was  asked, 'Well,  what 
will  the  white  population  do  in  such  an  event  ? '  This  was  his  weak 
and  unworthy  reply.  '  One  of  two  things,  quit  the  country  or  re- 
main and  fall.  For  my  part,  my  mind  is  made  up.  I  have  not 
long  to  live.  I  will  stay  and  go  down  with  the  ship  ;  but  to  the 
young  I  would  counsel  them  to  find  homes  elsewhere.' 


WHITE   MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  815 

"  I  say  that  is  the  advice  of  a  timid,  old  dotard.  What !  eight 
millions  of  civilized  white  men  abandon  their  homes,  the  noblest 
territorial  expanse  upon  the  face  of  the  world,  and  surrender  their 
country  in  ignoble  panic  to  three  millions  of  barbarians,  and  those 
barbarians  tlie  weakest  and  lowest  in  the  scale  of  men  —  negroes  ? 
No  !  this  is  our  country  ',  and  please  God  we  will  keep  it  yet,  and 

ru/e  it." 

Edmund  Stone  assented  with  fervor. 

*' What  do  you  think,  Mr.  Stone,  of  President  Johnson's  answer 
to  the  charges  of  impeachment  ?  " 

"  I  think,  sir,  that  his  answer  is  a  most  perfect  and  complete 
vindication  of  his  innocence.  He  has  nobly  opposed  the  proposi- 
tion of  any  amendment  to  the  Constitution  by  Congress,  while,  out 
of  the  thirty- six  States  constituting  the  Union,  eleven  are  excluded 
from  representation  in  either  house." 

"  True  !  If  ever  there  was  a  friend  to  the  South,  Andrew  John- 
son IS  that  one.  He  has  exercised  the  Presidential  power  in  veto- 
ing the  '  Freedman's  Bureau  Bill,'  and  the  '  Civil  Rights  Bill '  which 
abolishes  distinction  between  the  races.  He  is  an  opponent  of 
Negro  Suffrage.  As  far  back  as  the  fall  of  1865,  he  strove  to  dis- 
arm the  adversary  and  set  an  example  that  other  States  would 
follow.  He  wrote  to  Governor  Sharky,  of  Mississippi,  counseling 
him  to  extend  the  elective  franchise  to  all  persons  of  color  who 
could  read  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States  in  English,  and 
write  their  names;  also,  to  all  persons  of  color  who  owned  real 
estate,  valued  at  not  less  than   two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.     He 

" '  This  you  can  do  with  perfect  safety,  and  thus  place  the  South- 
ern States  upon  the  same  basis  with  the  Free  States,  and  as  a  con- 
sequence the  radicals  who  are  wild  upon  negro  franchise,  will  be 
completely  foiled  in  their  attempt  to  keep  the  Southern  States 
from  renewing  their  relations  to  the  Union,  by  not  accepting  their 
senators  and  representatives.'  ^^  .     .    ^  _ 

"  With  the  Charleston  Meracry,  I  say,  '  If  the  United  States  ben- 
ate  condemn  Andrew  Johnson,  the  name  of  every  senator  who  de- 
clares him  guilty  will  stand  gibbeted  forever  in  history,  as  the 
basest  traitor  to  the  South,  Justice  and  Liberty.'  " 

At  ei^^ht  o'clock,  the  colonel  donned  his  Klu  Kiux  gown  in  a  re- 


8l6  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

tired,  unfinished  chamber.  This  time  he  appeared  more  terrible 
by  the  long  horns  attached  to  his  head.  His  face  was  entirely 
masked.  The  ten  candidates  awaited  in  the  hall  ;  and  for  expedi- 
tion all  were  blindfolded  at  one  time.  The  Rev.  Stone  conducted 
each,  separately,  before  the  Cyclops  ;  arranging  them  in  a  semi- 
circle around  him  and  bade  them  kneel. 

In  this  attitude  and  with  raised  hands,  they  took  the  oath  to 
the  "Obligations,"  which. he  read  in  a  solemn,  unearhtly  tone.  At 
the  close  of  the  words  "  Death  !  Death !  Death  !  "  he  bade  them 
rise,  when  he  read  the  Constitution  and  By-laws,  to  all  of  which 
they  assented.  He  gave  them  the  signs  and  passwords  ;  he  ap- 
pointed the  "Night  Hawks,"  whose  duty  it  was  to  warn  the  Klan 
when,  and  where,  to  raid. 

The  Rev.  Stone  conducted  each  one  into  the  hall  again,  where 
they  removed  the  covering  from  their  eyes,  and  departed,  till  sum- 
moned for  deeds  of  cruelty,  whipping  and  murder. 

On  a  golden  June  day,  following  the  events  here  described,  an 
elegant  carriage,  reflecting  the  sun's  splendor  from  its  wheels  and 
burnished  sides,  drawn  by  a  proudly  moving  pair,  and  driven  by  a 
liveried  coachman,  slowly  approached  the  former  residence  of  the 
Fairlands,  at "  Le  Grand  Palais."  The  horses  were  walking  and 
tossing  their  fine  heads,  while  the  lady  within  the  carriage  wove 
into  a  wreath  a  vase  of  exquisite  flowers,  kept  fresh  in  the  water 
by  her  side.  They  were  passing,  when  a  well-dressed  serving-man, 
standing  upon  the  high  verandah,  raised  his  hat,  and  bowed  with 
the  courteous  civility  usual  even  to  strangers  of  their  rank  and 
style.  The  lady  gave  a  second  searching  glance,  exclaimed  from 
the  open  side, — 

"  Paul  Snow,  follow  this  carriage  down  to  those  graves  yonder, 
by  the  river." 

"  What  does  this  mean,  dearie  ?  "  asked  the  gray-haired  gentle- 
man at  her  side. 

"  I  will  explain,  papa,  at  the  river." 

The  carriage  wound  slowly  down  over  the  grassy  road,  to  the 
river  bank,  when  the  one  so  strangely  addressed  stepped  to  the 
side,  and  politely  opened  the  carriage  door,  saying  with  joyful 
surprise, — 


WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE.  817 

"  Pardon,  Mistress  May,  I  did  not  recognize  you,  until  this 
moment !  " 

"'  How  came  you  here,  Paul  ?  "  said  May  Dentelle  eagerly,  for  it 
was  no  other.     "  Who  occupies  '  Le  Grand  Palais  ? ' " 

"  A  gentlemaii  from  New  York  has  purchased  it  for  a  winter 
residence,  and,  through  Mr.  Lambelle,  I  have  waited  in  the  family 
the  past  winter.     They  are  now  in  die  North,  for  the  summer." 

-"  May,"  said  her  companion,  "is  this  the  Paul  Snow  that  waited 
upon  you  with  such  attention  at  Madame  Zaffiri's,  that  you  have 
never  ceased  praising  him  since  ?  " 

"  The  same,  dear  papa." 

"  Are  you  sure  the  name  is  correct  ?  I  think  something  is  wrong. 
I  should  say  his  registered  name  would  be  '  March  Haywood.'  He 
has  a  strong  resemblance  to  Ralph,  and  I  have  known  both  from 
boyhood.  If  I  had  not  supposed  March  dead,  long  ago,  I  would 
swear  to  it.  May !  " 

She  laughed,  and  said  in  a  low  tone, — 

"  Papa,  you  have  divined  the  truth —  but  say  no  more  here  1  let 
us  walk  down  the  river-bank  together." 

Ever  indulgent  to  her  wishes,  they  alighted,  and  walked  on. 
May  made  a  sign  for  Paul  to  follow. 

Removed  from  observation,  she  laid  her  hand  upon  Dentelle's 
shoulder,  and  looking  earnestly  in  his  face,  said, — 

"  Dear  papa,  will  you  grant  all  my  requests  to-day  ?  " 

She  .took  a  locket  from  her  bosom,  touched  the  spring,  and 
showed  him  Isabel's  curl,  saying, — 

"  By  that  talisman,  I  expect  to  hear  an  affirmative  answer.  Papa, 
will  you  grant  all  my  requests,  to-day.''  " 

He  pressed  her  small  hand  in  his,  raised  it  to  his  lips,  kissing  it 
tenderly. 

"  What  am  I,  to  refuse  your  requests,  my  darling,  my  pride  ? 
Do  ycu  not  lead  me  wherev^er  you  will  ?  " 

*'  God  bless  you  !   dear,  noble  papa." 

She  recalled  Paul,  who  had  walked  one  side,  and  asked  with 
agitation, — 

"  Are  you  elected  from  this  District,  a  member  of  the  Legislature 
about  to  meet  in  Columbia  ?  " 

"  I  am.  Mistress  May." 


8l8  WHITE    MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE. 

"  By  what  name  did  you  register  ? " 

"  ]\Iarch  Haywood,  madam." 

"  Do  you  apprehend  no  personal  danger,  by  remaining  here  till 
the  Legislature  convenes?" 

"  I  have  not,  madam." 

"  Then  let  me  tell  you,  your  life  is  in  danger.  We  have  just 
paid  a  visit  to  Vaucluse.  Colonel  Haywood  has  been  informed  of 
the  result  of  the  election,  and  has  recognized  your  name.  He.  is 
enraged  beyond  measure,  and  will  take  unwarrantable  means  to 
prevent  you  from  taking  your  seat.  I  can  say  no  more  than  to 
assure  you  that  the  assault  upon  you  will  be  night  work,  by  men  in 
disguise.  Three  nig/us  hence  is  the  appointed  time.  I  must  see  you 
safe  in  Columbia.  We  are  rambling  about  the  country  for  pleasure, 
and  I  have  acquaintances  in  Columbia.  W^e  are  half  way  there, 
from  Charleston  now.  Go  to  the  house,  take  what  clothing  you 
need  at  present  —  as  much  as  will  pack  in  the  driver's  box,  and 
go  with  me  to  Columbia,  immediately  !  " 

"  Could  I  not  remove  to  some  other  place,  near  here  ?  to  '  Snow- 
field,'  or  '  Success  ? '     We  are  forty  miles  from  Vaucluse." 

"  March,  they  will  search  every  cabin  for  you  !  The  brand  on 
your  arm  will  betray  you,  wherever  you  are.  I  demand  that  you 
follow  my  advice." 

Major  Dentelle  said, — 

"  I  advise  you  to  take  May  for  your  guide  !  I  do  not  approve  of 
this  negro  hunting,  at  night,  but  others  do.'" 

"  Thank  you,  papa,"  said  May.  "  Go  directly,  March,  and  come 
down  to  the  carriage.  The  horses  are  fresh ;  at  least,  we  shall 
leave  this  district  by  dark.  You  will  be  my  footman,  Paul  Snow. 
Understand  ?  " 

The  same  frightened  look  crept  into  the  expression  of  March,  as 
Mr.  Lambelle  observed  in  the  Quaker's  chamber  in  Philadelphia. 
He  went  to  the  house  for  his  effects. 

During  his  absence.  Major  Dentelle  and  May  walked  back  in  a 
sad  silence  to  the  grave  beneath  the  magnolias.  He  took  the 
wreath  from  the  carriage  seat,  and  May,  weeping  and  kneeling,  laid 
it  reverently  upon  the  breast  of  her  mother,  Isabel.  Tenderly  sup- 
ported in  the  arm  of  her  father.  May  entered  the  carriage.  March 
took  his  seat  on  the  box.     Major  Dentelle  said  to  the  coacliman, — 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK   JUNE.  819 

"  Let  the  horses  try  their  mettle.     Take  the  route  to  Columbia." 
In  July,  a  week  after  the  meeting  of  the  Legislature,  March  was 

summoned  outside,  from  his  seat  in  the  Representative's   chamber. 

There  stood  before  him  a  ragged,  haggard  freedman,  who  seized 

his  hand  eagerly,  saying, — 

"  I  so  glad  to  fin'  you,  March.     Tank  de  Lord,  you  is  well  an 

saft ! »  , 

"Why  Cato!"   exclaimed  March,  "what  can  be    the   matter.? 

What  brought  you  to  Columbia  ?  " 

"  I  'blege  to  come,  March,  but  I  tell  all  nudder  time.  You  is 
busv  now  making  de  laws  ;  but  I  mus'  see  you  face.     I  satisfy  now." 

"'Cato,  I  am  glad  to  see  you, —  sit  down  here  and  wait  for  me. 
In  an  hour  the  session  will  be  concluded.  Are  these  tattered 
clothes  all  you  have  here?  " 

"  Ebryting  I  got,  March.     I  tankful  to  have  myself.     I  tell   all 

dis  ebening.'^ 

"  Are  you  hungry,  Cato  ? " 

"  I  eat  nottin'  since  yesterday  morning." 

March  gave  him  money,  bidding  him  go  buy  a  meal.     Then  re- 
flecting how  little  he  understood  customs,  went  out  with  him   to   a 
restaurant,  and  left  him  at  a  bountiful  table,,  with  the  injunction  to 
return  for  him. 

At  the  close  of  the  session,  he  took  Cato  to  a  clothiers,  and  pur- 
chased for  him  a  becoming  suit,  which  he  wore  away.  He  com- 
pleted Cato's  outfit  at  the  shoe  and  hat  store  ;  and  after  a  call  at 
the  barber's,  took  him  to  his  lodgings. 

*'  There,  Cato,"  said  March,  "  you  look  like  a  new  man.  Come 
to  supper,  and  then  tell  me  all." 

Happy  and  confiding  as  a  child,  he  followed  March,  stepping 
carefully,  and  surveying  constantly  his  strange  new  clothes." 

At  length  they  were  alone. 

"  Now  tell  me  all,"  said  March,  playfully.  "  I  feared  I  should 
never  have  the  opportunity  to  entertain  you,  Cato.  Try  to  feel 
content  with  me.  You  sha'll  share  my  bed,  and  this  room,  as  long 
as  you  like.     How  is  your  family,  Cato.  ?  " 

•'  Dunno,  March.  Wese  all  run  way  from  dem  Klu  Klucks.  I 
come  here,  my  wife  start  fur  Charleston,  an'  my  grown  darter,  dat 
wait  on  Miss  Grace.     You  say  when   you  come  dat  night  horse- 


82 O  WHITE    MAY,    AND    BLACK   JUNE. 

back,  if  I  get  in  trouble,  go  to  Missis  Sterlin'woi-t  in  Charleston  ; 
she  will  help  us. 

"  You  see,  March,  fore  de  'lection,  dem  debble  masters  get  on 
dere  horses,  and  go  round  nights,  whippin',  and  hangin*  we.  Dey 
say  dey  make  all  we  good  democrat;  and  make  we  promise  not  to 
vote  'publican  ticket.  Dey  say  dey  won't  hire  no  hands  on  planta- 
tion dat  vote  so — nor  any  dat  go  to  Union  League.  Say  dey 
dribe  all  we  off  !  Say  dey  dribe  de  Yankee  off,  too  !  '* 

"  Cato,  have  the  Klu  Klux  really  whipped  colored  men  ?  " 

"  I  tell  de  trut',  March  !  Dey  whip  good  many  I  know,  and  I 
tink  good  many  I  don't  know.     Dey  whip  me,  Cato  !  " 

"  Who  whipped  you  ?  " 

'  I  knows  one  —  dat's  Marse  Ralph.  Dunno  de  oders.  Dey 
all  dress  in  long  gown,  hab  head  and  face  all  cober  up,  say  we 
come  from  hell,  an  we  gom'  back  to  hell.  Dey  hab  gun,  an  pistol. 
Dey  broke  in  my  door,  drag  me  out,  and  whip  me  wid  hickory 
switch  till  I  can't  walk,  and  say,  'You  won't  vote  Radical  ticket? ' 
I  say.  '  No  sir.'  Dey  hold  de  pistol  to  my  head,  and  say, '  We  make 
you  democrat  1     Den  dey  whip  again." 

"  Did  you  vote  at  the  last  election  ? " 

"  No,  March." 

"  Were  you  not  afraid  to  travel  to  Columbia  ? " 

"I  trabel  four  day  in  de  swamp  and  wood,  and  I  seen  tree  men 
hang  dead  on  one  tree ;  den  1  seen  one  mo'  dead  in  anodder  place, 
shot  to  pieces  !  " 

You  must  stay  away  from  such  friends ;  never  go  back,  Cato. 
You  helped  me  to  escape  to  the  North,  before  the  war ;  now,  I  will 
help  you." 

"  You  mus'  stay  'way  too,  March ;  dey  ride  in  de  dark  night  for 
you.  Dat  what  I  come  dis  way  for  —  to  warn  you  neber  go  back 
where  you  was  'lected." 

March  groaned,  and  asked, — 

"  How  do  you  know  they  would  harm  me,  now  ? " 

My  girl,  maid  to  Missis  Grace.  She  was  in  de  dressing-room, 
and  missis  don't  know  she  there.  Marse  Haywood  come  in  de 
chamber,  and  swear  and  cuss  'bout  March,  say  you  was  gone  when 
dev  ride  forty  mile  after  you.  Den  he  say  when  you  go  back,  after 
you  done  in  Columbia,  he  hab  nudder  Klu  Klucks  ready  for  you 


WHITE   MAY,   AND   BLACK  JUNE.  82 1 

dere  ;  cuss  and  swear  an'  say  dey  take  you  in  de  woods  an'  shoot 
you,  and  bury  you  so  deep  God  ca7i'tfi7id you.  She  tell  me  ;  I  come 
dis  way  to  warn  you.  Stay  in  Columbia  all  de  time,  March.  Marse 
Haywood  will  murder  570U." 

March  paced  the  room  —  his  face  writhed  in  agony.  He  ex- 
claimed,— 

"  Is  this  Reconstruction  .?  When  will  this  South  cease  to  indulge 
in  the  ferocity  of  barbarism  ?  When  will  this  lovely  land  cease  to 
be  watered  with  tears  and  blood  ?  Alas !  when  shall  I  ever  be 
free  ? " 

To  and  fro,  to  and  fro,  went  his  scarcely  conscious  feet,  ponder- 
ing upon  his  bitter  past  and  no  less  cruel  present.  At  length,  his 
hands  clasped,  his  soft  dark  eyes  turned  upward  a  look  of  pleading 
despair,  as  he  mournfully  exclaimed, — 

"  My  Savior  !  I  am  hunted  still !  " 


LAST   CHAPTER. 

BETWEEN  three  and  four  years  after  the  events  recorded  in 
the  previous  chapter,  a  carriage  was  leisurely  driven  to  one  of 
the  wharves  in  Charleston. 

"  Stop  here,  driver,"  said  Mr.  Lambelle ;  then  turning  to  his 
gentlemanly  companion,  one  of  the  State  officials  from  Columbia, 
he  remarked, — 

"  I  think  we  can  observe  every  movement  of  interest  from  this 
point." 

"I  think  so,  sir,"  replied  March  Haywood  j  "there  will  be  no 
necessity  for  our  alighting." 

"None  at  all;  we  shall  be  more  secure  in  the  carriage  from  the 
jostling  crowd.  I  think  they  are  approaching  now.  Once  more, 
March,  the  Federal  Government  has  extended  its  arm  of  power 
over  the  rebellious  and  unrelenting  South.  By  the  peaceful  gran- 
deur of  judicial  process  it  brings  the  South  again  to  punishment 
and  reflection ! " 

In  a  few  moments,  a  gang  of  white  prisoners  from  the  jail  were 
marched  under  guard,  slowly  past  the  carriage  wheels  and  under 


822  WHITE    MAY,   AND    BLACK    JUNE. 

its  open  windows.  A  motion  from  March  fixed  the  attention  of 
Mr.  Lambelle  upon  one  of  the  forlorn,  woe-be-gone,  and  haggard 
crew.  He  wore  a  gray  blanket  in  the  manner  of  a  cloak  over  his 
shoulders,  fastened  with  a  string.  His  eyes  were  steadfastly  cast 
down. 

"Is  that  man  your  proud,  defiant  brother?"    asked   Mr.  Lam 
belle,  in  a  suppressed  voice. 

"  That  is  my  brother  —  Ralph  Haywood  !  "  answered  March, 
with  a  compassionate  sigh.  That  is  Ralph  Haywood,  on  his  way 
to  a  Northern  penitentiary,  in  the  snows  of  January." 

The  Klu  Klux  prisoners  ascended  to  the  deck  of  the  steamer 
*•' Charleston,"  where  a  detatchment  of  the  Eighteenth  Infantry  re- 
ceived them.  They  descended  into  the  bulkhead,  temporarily  pre- 
pared for  their  confinement,  and  were  lost  to  view. 

The  carriage  still  remained.  Mr.  Lambelle  and  March,  in  awe- 
struck silence,  saw  the  convict  steamer  loose  from  her  moorings, 
heard  the  swash  of  the  waves  as  she  swung  into  the  Bay,  and  left 
the  Port. 

"Thus,  my  dear,  dead  Flora  is  at  last  avenged  !  "  said  March. 

Absorbed  in  reflection,  he  scarcely  heard  the  reply  of  Mr.  Lam- 
belle,— 

"  Thus  you,  my  patient,  long-suffering  friend,  are  at  last  set  free 
from  his  bloody  pursuit !  " 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
315 


X 


